


Book 0: The Fool

by PsychicDynamite



Series: The Arcana [1]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Apprentice can be whoever you want!, Apprentice is Gender Neutral, But if I do use pronouns, Fluff, I try really hard not to use pronouns, I will have routes for trans and cis readers, I'll be using they/them, Pre-Game Story, Self-Insert, just to keep things gender neutral, smut? maybe? who knows, starts with the apprentice meeting Asra, will go up until the beginning of the game, will have so much fluff and angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2020-07-09 12:13:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 41
Words: 75,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19887583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychicDynamite/pseuds/PsychicDynamite
Summary: You feel pain blossoming from your forehead. Still kneeling on the ground, you grip your head. Wow, that really hurt. Flustered, you couldn’t help the red anger growing as the pain continues to spread.“Oh wow, I’m sorry, I—““What’s your problem? Is this snake yours? Who do you think—“ but you cut yourself short.Curly hair as bright as the snake’s skin is the first thing you noticed. The vibrant red scarf on the boy’s neck is loosely hung, probably to let him cool off in the heat of the market.“You’re…you’re the fortune teller boy.”~ ~ ~Your story of how you met Asra, and how your relationship began.





	1. A Bump in the Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you meet the boy behind your shop.

The sun shines steadily onto the tarps of Vesuvia’s market stands. The air is filled with the clamor of vendors advertising their wares, and of buyers haggling for cheaper prices that they supposedly saw in another booth. The scent of spices, sweat, and mild must mingle in the air along with the dust being kicked up.

Just another day, you think to yourself, sighing. Your head in your hands as you stare out the window. Back again at your aunt’s shop, this time it seemed for good. Who knows where your parents are now? Out exploring the far corners of the earth? Dining on the rarest of delectables? Or maybe actually dead this time? Who knows…

“Oi!” You hear your aunt bark at you as you see a couple of customers head towards the shop. “Get down from the window and go get those gentlemen their orders!”

“Yes, ma’am.” You answer quickly and curtly, running off to the back to get the three potions the gentlemen had ordered right as you hear the bell ring, signaling that the two men had come in.

As they exchange pleasantries in the front of the shop, you pull back the curtain and go to the back counter to retrieve the potions. You feel your insides become both too heavy and too light. This is the first order your aunt allowed you to help with the order. She usually barks at you to lay off when you offer your help. But finally, she let you try.

Being careful to not jostle them in their bag, you return to the front of the shop.

“Ah, the palace has indeed been much busier,” one mustached man comments.

“Yes, yes, what with preparations for the Masquerade well under way,” the other adds, nodding.

That’s right. The Masquerade. As usual, Count Lucio is holding no expense. It is going to be another extravagant event this year.

Hopefully this means just as much business, or more, than last year, you think to yourself. Last year, up until the last hour of the Masquerade, customers had been coming in and out, demanding express orders of potions, charms, you name it. While the shop is small, and a bit out of the way, word had spread quickly that the magical products from the shop were high quality. This meant great business, especially for big events with tons of wealthy foreigners and nobles coming in.

Your aunt had been practically delirious with joy at the profits, leaving to celebrate at the Rowdy Raven while you had had a quiet night to yourself. You had decided to practice your magic, mainly preparing potion ingredients and concocting a couple too.

Politely smiling, you offer the gentlemen their order. They thank you, tip their hats, and go on their merry way.

A familiar wriggle under your apron turns your attention to your familiar. You chuckle as you tickle his snout. “Looks like the potions are going to be a success, Oberon?”

He happily twitches his snout in response.

“Alright, get, go prep the ingredients fer the other orders. We gotta clear out the queue soon fer new orders.” You can almost hear the greed in your aunt’s voice, the thoughts of the Masquerade in the front of her mind now.

“Yes, ma’am,” you sigh before going to the back, wishing the ingredients cabinet didn’t block out most of the window. It tends to be dark and musty because of the myriad of different ingredients for potions and charms. Whenever you could, you spend your time in the front of the shop, unless there are customers of course.

Oberon hops out of your apron to help get ingredients on the higher shelves. You thank him, grabbing ones you could reach.

It's a wonder how this cabinet fit in this shop in the first place. Towering over you, the many shelves are overwhelming. There used to be a ladder to reach the highest shelves, but your aunt blamed you for breaking it. That had been the same day you found Oberon, and really the only reason your aunt tolerates him is because he helps retrieving ingredients for you. Her familiar, a reserved and rather stubborn cat, Lyra, also tolerates Oberon’s new residence, but only so much. It seems her favorite hobby so far is to see how far she could go with harassing him.

Using your magic, you focus on stirring the potent energy within each ingredient to just the right amount for the potions in the order queue. Looking at all the orders, there is probably only one or two out of the seven that you couldn’t do, but of course your aunt wouldn’t let you touch them. That one order had been a fluke, you had happened to ask at just the right moment on the right day when she had been in the right mood.

But maybe that means asking next time wouldn’t be so hard, especially if the gentlemen returned, happy with their products.

After Oberon hands you the last ingredient you needed, you wipe your brow. You are just a young teenager, so focusing magic for so long required stamina that you don't quite have yet. But you are confident you would have them soon.

“Alright, you’ve done enough. Here’s some coins, go buy yer lunch,” your aunt grumbles, dropping a few coins in your hand. “And no dilly-dallying!”

“Yes, ma’am,” you reply, happily exiting the dark half of the shop through the back. Oberon jumps up on your shoulders as you open the door.

Sunlight hit your face pleasantly, and you’re greeted with the sights and sounds of the market. To your left is the same boy who offers fortune readings to whomever passes by. He’s been getting a bit more of a crowd lately, probably due to the increasing number of travelers for the Masquerade.

But your sights are set to the right, where the baker is.

The bakery had been trying a new recipe for several types of bread, and you had happily offered your palate. They were at a discount too, so who could say no?

~~~

You thank the baker after grabbing your loaf, petting the cat on the way out. The spices from the bread waft up, and you can’t help taking a bite. It's delicious - the baker may have finally perfected one of their new recipe. Oberon steals a bite, then goes off to profit from any dropped crumbs of food on the street.

Keeping a watchful eye, you take another bite from the loaf. You could hear your aunt scolding you in your head for not cutting up the bread before eating it. Chuckling, you take another bite as if in defiance.

A familiar high pitched squeak grabs your attention.

“Oberon?” you call out, worry entangled in your voice. A bright flash out of the corner of your eye makes you turn your head.

Gasping, you see an admittedly beautiful ball python corner your familiar up against the wall of your shop. Panic makes your stomach float - you didn’t know what to do. This snake obviously is under someone’s care - snakeskin so luminescent wasn’t going to be surviving in the wild. But you couldn’t just let Oberon be eaten!

You see the snake tensing its body, preparing to strike, and your legs move on their own. Desperately trying to conjure wind magic to shelter Oberon, you find yourself running.

“Faust, stop!” A voice rings out from the chattering ambience of the market crowd.

Wondering who the voice belongs to, your attention is broken. Magic dispelled, the wall of your shop meets your face as you run into it. Still in fear of his life, Oberon scurries and scratches up your leg, wiggling his way into your shirt under your apron.

You feel pain blossoming from your forehead. Still kneeling on the ground, you grip your head. Wow, that really hurt. Flustered, you couldn’t help the red anger growing as the pain continues to spread.

“Oh wow, I’m sorry, I—“

“What’s your problem? Is this snake yours? Who do you think—“ but you cut yourself short.

Curly hair as bright as the snake’s skin is the first thing you noticed. The vibrant red scarf on the boy’s neck is loosely hung, probably to let him cool off in the heat of the market.

“You’re…you’re the fortune teller boy.”

The boy’s brow creases with worry. “Is that your pet?”

You look down into your shirt, where Oberon is still shivering. “Uh, yeah, my familiar.”

“I’m sorry about that - Faust hasn’t eaten in a bit, so I guess she was sniffing around for food.” The boy looks down apologetically after glancing at his snake, who has since curled up his arm onto his shoulder.

“Uh…I-It’s ok, I guess…I know snakes have to eat too…I guess I was just scared. Oberon’s all I have, really…” You put a soothing hand up to the lump in your shirt to ease him.

Confused, the boy tips his head. “But I thought you live in that shop?”

“I-I do! It’s just…my aunt is kind of rough…and I guess isn’t even really my aunt. She’s just a family friend that my parents insist I call aunt.”

“Oh…well it’s nice to have a roof over your head, at least.”

You hadn’t really thought about it that way. Looking at the boy, you imagine his circumstances, since you’ve never seen him with parents, or go into any home nearby. “Yeah…I guess so…What’s your name?”

“I’m—“ But sudden noises and movement cut him short. Nearby a man calls for everyone to make way as he leads a carriage in the direction of the palace. The rush of bodies throws the boy off his feet, making him scramble beside you up against the wall of the shop.

Both of you swing your heads to look at the pristine carriage, drawn by six beautiful horses. Inside is…a princess? Or at least as close to a princess as you think you’d ever see. Luxurious jewels and colors complement the regal composure she maintains. But upon looking further, you see that she is glancing underneath her lashes to look curiously at the streets she is passing through. At that moment, her eyes swing to meet yours. You feel a blush fill your cheeks and look away, as if what you did is not allowed.

As the carriage passes at a leisurely pace, the crowd mends back together with whispers among them.

“What a guest.”

“Oh, you didn’t hear? Supposedly Count Lucio is going to ask for her hand.”

“No - at the Masquerade?”

“That’s what I’ve been hearing.”

“Unbelievable…but how romantic!”

“She’s so lucky.”

Blinking, you bring your attention back to the boy beside you. “A-Are you ok? You almost got trampled on!”

“I’m fine. That was kind of crazy, huh?” A playful light glimmers in his eyes.

“Yeah. You think she’s really going to marry that Count Lucio?”

“I hope not. I’ve met him before…he’s pretty mean.” He turns his gaze downward, recalling a memory. “She seems nice, and smart.”

“And pretty…” you muse, losing yourself for a moment as you recalled her eyes. The boy’s giggling brings you to your senses.

“Hey, what’s so funny?” you ask, giving him a playful shove. He laughs properly this time.

“You’ve got a crush,” he sings teasingly. The blush from earlier returns with a vengeance on your face.

“I do not!” you vehemently deny, trying to whack him again. The boy smartly dodges.

“Oi!” A well known yell got your attention. “I didn’t give you the rest of the day off - get back in here!”

Wincing, you find yourself retiring into a demure state. “I…I gotta go.”

Glancing at the doorway where your aunt yelled from, his lips form a small frown. “Guess so…”

As you turn to go back into the back of the shop, a quick “wait!” halts your steps. You turn to look behind you.

“I’m Asra. What’s your name?”


	2. Heart of the Cards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which your friendship with Asra continues to unfold with a quick lesson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update - to make it up to you guys, I'll be releasing Chapter 3 early, on Friday :)

Not much time had passed since you first met Asra, but every chance you got, you find yourself wandering over to his rug where he read fortunes and sold masks he and his friend, Muriel, made. Your family hadn’t really studied divination, so it’s always fascinating to watch. Asra in turn has never tried potions; he knew a little about charms, but his knowledge was very basic. 

“Hey,” Asra chirps, breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. “Do you want me to teach you?”

“Teach me?” 

“Yeah, tarot. It’s not that hard, especially for you - your magic is strong.”

Flustered with the direct compliment, your words tumble out of your mouth. “Wh-What do you mean? My mag-magic isn’t that great!”

“What are you talking about, yeah it is. I can feel it in your aura.” Faust even bobs her head, as if to agree. Oberon, who had since warmed up a bit to Faust after realizing she wasn’t going to eat him, also looks up encouragingly from his seat next to the snake.

Feeling a bit cornered, your tongue seems to trip on your words. “M-my aunt says other…wise…”

Asra’s lips purses into an irritated pout. “Your aunt isn’t that great, all she does is yell and scream.”

“That-that isn’t totally true…she teaches me magic…sometimes…” There is magic in making potions, and learning how to cool yourself in the humid Vesuvian summers…

“Well, you’re gonna learn either way. It’s fun!” Not waiting for a response, the young magician grabs his handmade tarot deck. Placing the deck in my hands, he simply says, “Shuffle ‘em.”

You look down at the deck he had given you. It radiates low levels of magic, which is not unpleasant, but certainly foreign. In the back of your mind, you hear a breath of a whisper. Meeting Asra’s eyes, he gives you a confident nod. Reciprocating, you shuffle then cut the deck. 

Once you pick a pile, Asra instructs you to lay out the cards in a circular pattern. Once that’s done, he continues his gentle instructions.

“Close your eyes, and try to reach out to the card that calls to you.”

You do as he says, closing your eyes and concentrating your magic. It wasn’t unlike using magic to brew potions, but you are startled when the whisper returns. From shock, you open your eyes wide.

“I heard a voice,” you explain, glancing around at you to make sure no one was doing any funny business.

“What did it say?” Asra seems unworried…

But thinking back on it, you aren't sure what the voice said. You knew it was a voice, someone uttered words, but…had it been a foreign language? No, maybe it wasn’t even words…

“I…I don’t know.”

Still unperturbed, Asra brings your attention back to the cards again. “Maybe the voice is trying to help you?”

Maybe…

You close your eyes once again and reach out. Following where your magic leads you, your hand naturally floats to a card…

“Wheel of Fortune, reversed,” you hear Asra read the card you selected.

Opening your eyes, you stare at the image on the card, staring at the details of the wheel.

Most people when drawing this card focus on the word “Fortune”, or at least the ones who stop by Asra’s spot. But they seem to miss the point that the card symbolizes a force that is out of their hands. If upright, it’s a sign to enjoy good moments while you have them. But if reversed…

“Looks like luck isn’t on your side, huh?” Asra’s airy voice brings you back to your senses. 

Out of all the cards you’ve seen people draw, the Wheel of Fortune card puzzles you the most. Whether upright or reversed, it seems like it basically says you can do nothing about external circumstances in your life.

You let out a huff, disgruntled. Asra’s laughter chimes in, surprising you.

“What’s so funny?” You put your hands on your hips, continuing to frown.

“You just seem so concerned.”

“Well, I dunno, the Wheel of Fortune card confuses me. If I can’t control anything, then what am I supposed to do about it?”

“It means that in life, there are cycles of good and bad,” Asra explains gently. “So just because you’ve been unlucky for a while doesn’t mean it’ll always be like that. Things will look up.” He flashes a kind smile.

Somewhat satisfied, you let his words simmer in your brain. While you hate that your parents are always abandoning you, it gives you the freedom to practice magic. You aren’t sure if you would have gotten so much experience if they aren’t always away. On the other hand, that meant spending the majority of your life with your “aunt”, who loved to yell at you when she could. But that did also mean meeting Asra…

“Maybe you’re right…” you mumble under your breath.

“OI! Yer time’s up!” The loud voice disrupts your thoughts. With a sigh, you get up, reaching out for Oberon, who swiftly climbs up to your shoulder.

When your aunt had discovered that you made friends with the street fortune teller, she was not pleased at all. “You shouldn’t be associating with scum on the street,” she had said, which hurt you. Asra is definitely not scum. He is most certainly a magician, or at least one in training. “You better not be slacking off in the back because of him,” she had threatened. “And yer lunch breaks are still the same! Just because you found a chummy face to talk to means nothing.”

You had silently nodded to her words, knowing better than to raise your voice against her. Unfortunately that hadn’t done anything to calm her down, but didn’t anger her further at least. But nowadays, it seemed like your aunt’s fuse was a bit shorter…

“I better get going,” you say apologetically, already feeling yourself withdraw into your meek persona.

It's Asra’s turn to frown. “Alright…”

You cast one glance back, as if to say sorry, before rushing back to the shop.

Opening the door, the mildew and must of the shop assaults your nose. You’d think after working here so often, you’d get used to it…

“Were you out with that fortune scammer again?” your aunt badgers, hands on her hip. Behind her, a fire heats a cauldron, its contents lazily filling the room with a dim green light.

“He’s not a scammer…” you mutter, wishing that had come out a bit more confidently.

“Pah, all divination is a scam. Ya just hurl some cards around and what? Remember what each card means and make some vague statements about it.” You’ve had this argument with your aunt several times, but every time she holds her opinions firm.

“But it is magic…” you counter weakly, berating yourself that you sounded so submissive.

“I’ll tell ya what’s magic - the fact that you can get anything done with that little voice of yers. Now get back to preppin’!”

Accepting another loss, your head droop as you walked over to the cabinet. Oberon gives you a sympathetic nuzzle. Hopefully this wouldn’t ruin the brew you’re about to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and look forward to the next chapter! And thank you for leaving kudos and comments~


	3. Potent Potions and Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you teach Asra a little thing or two about potions.

“Hey, I have an idea - why don’t you teach me potions?”

It's another hot day in Vesuvia. The Masquerade is tomorrow, and the streets are filled to the brim. Every inch of shade is occupied by either merchants, shoppers, or wares. Those selling refreshments are definitely profiting in this heat.

Miraculously, Asra had found some time to chat. The last few times they had tried to hang out, one of them had been busy with customers. But your friend had soon discovered that right after lunch, everyone was so hot that no one wanted to wander down a narrow street for a card reading. Not now, anyway. Vesuvia’s night markets were another playing field, however.

“What? Me? Teach you?” You're taken aback, staring as Asra laid down, hands cushioning his head. How could you teach him anything? Thinking back to the short tarot lessons, he's always so confident and reassuring with you. Plus he also knows water magic and some basic illusionary magic. What do you know?

“I’m sure you could,” he says with a smile, absentmindedly stroking Oberon’s head.

You find yourself pausing. In order to personally deliver some orders to the palace, your aunt had entrusted the shop to you. While it's closed to any new orders, there are a few she had told you to prep for her to immediately put in a cauldron when she gets back after dinner.

“Uhhhh...” Your hesitation dumbly fills the air. On one hand, you could see yourself having a blast trying to brew a potion with Asra. But on the other…if your aunt found out…

“Oh come on, your aunt isn’t coming back ’til after dinner. That’s plenty of time to make something?” Asra tempted, as if reading your mind’s worries.

Maybe…

“Alright,” you sigh, giving in.

“Cool!” Asra immediately jumps up, excited. Faust also seems to perk up, curious at what you could offer.

You glance at Oberon, wondering if you made the right decision. He comes up to your hand, happily licking your fingers, before climbing up to your shoulder.

Asra rolls up his rug and gathers his things, to avoid theft. You lead the two of you to the back door to the shop.

As your hand grips the handle, embarrassment washes over you. The back of the shop is always so damp and rather untidy. Would Asra say anything? You desperately wonder if the two of you could brew something in the front. But all the tools and ingredients are safely stored in the back, and there is no way you could move the cauldron.

“Something wrong?” 

You jump slightly when Asra asks so close behind you. 

“Um, i-it might be a little gross. The back’s sort of ended up dark because of all the ingredients my aunt’s collected. So-sorry about that…”

“Don’t worry about it, you should have seen some of the places I stayed before Muriel found that hut in the woods.”

You smile, thankful. You had always been curious about Asra’s story. He had told you bits and pieces, funny tales and brushes with trouble, but not much else. Making a mental note to ask later, you open the shop door.

Once inside, you head over to the ingredient cabinet. Asra blinks a few times to adjust to the darker setting before looking around in slight awe.

“Wow, I can really feel the magical energy in here.”

“You can?”

“Yeah, especially around the cauldron.”

You hadn’t really noticed the magic before; it's just the back of the shop. But thinking about it, spending so much time here probably means that you're desensitized to the energy. To someone else who’s in the shop less frequently, they could probably sense it.

“We’ll have to prep the ingredients before we use that,” you say with a smile, feeling the anxiety from earlier melt away as you watch Asra inspect the stove salamander curiously. How is it so easy to be around him?

“What are we making?” he asks, turning his attention to the ingredient cabinet. Oberon is already out and getting ready to climb to the higher cabinets.

“Just a couple of cooling potions, to help with the heat. Not too hard either, my aunt lets me make them in the mornings to sell to customers.”

“Why aren’t you selling them now? I bet people would be dying for some.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t trust me with handling money,” you explain with a self-deprecating chuckle. You turn to Oberon, asking him to grab an ingredient that lived up higher.

“Here, you can chop. Half the magic is preparing the ingredients,” you say, offering the prep counter to him.

“It is?”

You open a couple other drawers to grab the rest of the ingredients. “Yep. Here, why don’t you mince these?”

Grabbing the knife, Asra sets to mincing the ingredients. Meanwhile you pour some water into the cauldron, and politely awaken the stove salamander to light the charred hearth.

“If it’s a cooling potion, why do we need to light a fire?”

You let out a giggle, knowing he's trying to be clever.

“It’s still a potion so you need to brew it. It’s like the cold tea those merchants are selling - they still have to use hot water to brew it.”

“So we’re going to stick ice in the potion after?”

You let a laugh escape your lips, which makes Asra smile. If he was aiming to make you laugh, he succeeded.

“No, we just let it cool. The ingredients and magic will do the rest.” You hop over to grab the mortar and pestle, which are carved with symbols that helps channel magic.

“Now try grinding the ingredients down in this. The symbols are supposed to help you channel the magic through the pestle and into the mortar. As you’re grinding, imagine a cooling sensation flowing through your body to get the strongest energy out of the ingredients.”

“Kind of like reaching out to read the cards,” Asra states, looking to you to confirm his connection.

“Yeah, actually, kinda like that.”

With a nod, the white-haired boy turns to the mortar and pestle and let his energy flow. You notice a brief flash of purple from the symbols, signaling that Asra’s magic is being infused into the ingredients, as well as drawing out their properties.

Smiling, you go to check on the cauldron. The water is almost at a boil, you could hear it wanting to start bubbling.

The silence between the two of you is comfortable, the air filled with nothing but the quiet, crackling fire and the sound of grinding. Soon, the water begins to boil. Killing the heat, you call Asra over.

Peeking into the mortar, you hum in satisfaction at his handiwork.

“I did alright?” he asks.

“It looks perfect.” Asra smiles wide before carefully dumping the powder into the hot water.

The two of you use your magic to stir the cauldron, making sure the contents are homogenous. The roiling water soon thickens into what almost looked like dark blue molasses before thinning out into a bright blue solution. It emits a dull, playful flicker of light.

“Wow…this is amazing!” Asra breathes, making you smile.

“Here, you can use this to carry it with you,” you offer, grabbing two empty glass bottles. Grabbing the ladle, you scoop the potions and give both to him.

Asra meets your eyes inquisitively. “Isn’t one for you?”

“Oh, uh,” you feel your voice and heart stammer, suddenly nervous. “I-I figured maybe Muriel would want one? You always mention your tiny hut, so I thought it wouldn’t be too great in the heat…”

He pauses before smiling again. “You…thank you. I’m sure he’d appreciate them.”

I return the smile, feeling nice and warm.

Outside, we both hear the gradual crescendo of the market’s crowd, venturing out as the day cools.

“I better get back to my spot,” Asra says, breaking the silence. “With the Masquerade being tomorrow, there are desperate souls looking for masks, and I’ve got plenty left.” A mischievous smile graced his lips.

You’ve seen, and tried on, many of Asra’s and Muriel’s masks. They aren’t the most extravagant, but anyone could tell that they are each unique and well crafted. 

“Hey, once the Masquerade is in full swing, let’s explore the market!” Asra suggests, halting his steps and turning back to you.

The invitation sends a wave of excitement through you. You usually either spend the Masquerade alone, or frantically helping your aunt with last minute orders. 

A promising smile droops into a frown. “I don’t know…my aunt may need my help…”

“I can even try to convince Muriel to come along - you can finally meet him!”

You bite your lip, not knowing how to answer. If your aunt finds out…

“Alright, I’ll try to slip out once the sun sets.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is late...but get ready for the next chapter, which will be the first Masquerade!


	4. Your First Masquerade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you enjoy the first night of the Masquerade, and sneak into an abandoned building with Asra

Not too long after Asra had returned to his spot on the street, your aunt had also returned. Anticipating the last minute rush of tomorrow, she had you prep a myriad of ingredients before going to bed much too late in your mind. The morning of the Masquerade, a loud bang and a shout jolts you awake, commanding you to get up and make several charms.

This can’t be good for my magic, you think as you put on your apron. Quickly grabbing some stale bread and cheese, you eat while weaving charms, careful not to get any crumbs or oil on the materials.

Hours pass like this, peppered with heavy yawns and the constant opening and closing of the shop’s front door. You know your aunt’s shop was gaining popularity, but this is almost ridiculous. 

The hottest time of day didn’t extinguish the persistent crowd, but it did dwindle. Much past lunch time, your aunt chucks a few coins at you and says to be back promptly. Ducking your head to avoid eye contact, you hurry out the back door, hoping to bump into Asra.

A small crowd flocks around the young magician’s rug, examining his wares thoroughly. Looking closely, Asra seems to never stop exchanging money with at least one pair of hands. To your luck, you are able to catch his gaze.

“Ah, sorry!” he shouts over the crowd between frantically exchanging cash. “Meet me after sun down!”

You nod, which he sees before turning his full attention onto the hungry crowd.

Wanting to get something substantial, you decide on getting some stew instead of bread, knowing there would be a full day ahead of you.

~ ~ ~

The traffic in the shop is just as you remember it being last year. People of all backgrounds and origins either wander into the shop with curiosity, or barge in with urgency. You didn’t really get a break the entire time after lunch. If you hadn’t been brewing, you were prepping ingredients. Your aunt had even let you handle a couple of transactions because she had been stuck in the back. But as the sun set and the Masquerade officially began, your aunt did something surprising.

With a tired huff, she closes the door behind the last customer and extinguishes the lamp that signaled the shop’s open hours.

“The crowd this year is bigger,” she observes roughly. “Pro’lly ‘cause of that supposed new Countess. Profits this year are greater too - so I’m closin’ up early. My back can’t handle any more of this - I need a drink. Here—“ she tosses you a small pouch of coins “—go get dinner. I’ll be back late - you better not be making a ruckus when I get back.”

Still a bit speechless, you nod, not trusting your words. You watch as she takes off her apron, dusts off her clothes, and exits the shop. The quiet that greets you is almost unbelievable, before a huge smile splits your face.

Quickly glancing behind you, you make sure everything is in order before throwing off your apron and rushing out the back as well. Locking up, you run over to Asra’s spot.

“Asra!” you shout, getting his attention.

“You made it!”

Stopping before his rug, you watch as he rummages around his belongings. Looking around, it looks like he had sold most, if not all, of his wares. Happy for him, you smile.

“Here, for tonight!” You look at your friend holding up two masks, one being handed to you.

Blinking, your mouth drops a little. “For me?"

“Of course - it’s the Masquerade! Can’t be going around bare-faced.” 

Still quite speechless, you wordlessly accept the gift. You stroke the face of it, feeling Asra’s aura in the painted details of the mask. 

“Asra…thank you,” you breathe, wanting to try and explain your gratitude. You want to continue, but the magician cuts you off, excited. “Come on, let’s go explore! I’m starving too.”

Guess you’d have to show your thanks later. Feeling the familiar grumbles of hunger, you are about to agree, when a thought pops into your head.

“Hey, where’s Muriel?”

Asra’s smile drops a bit before giving you an apologetic look. “He’s…not going to make it. I really tried, but he hates crowds. The forest is going to be especially quiet during the Masquerade, with everyone either being in the center of town, or at the palace. I think he’s going to just enjoy that.”

Feeling a bit bummed, you nod, trying to understand. Asra had always said that Muriel wasn’t the type to venture into the city, which was why he didn’t tag along with him. Instead, however, Asra has told you that Muriel has picked up quite some foraging knowledge.

“Guess that just means you’ll have to come visit us soon,” Asra says, perking back up to his earlier excitement.

The thought touches you. “I’d like that.”

Asra nods before slipping on his mask. “Come on, I think there was a vendor selling blue tongue skink - I’ve been craving it all day.”

Laughing, you slip on your mask too. “Ok, let’s go!”

~ ~ ~

The Masquerade is officially a party for the bourgeois of Vesuvia, along with invited guests. While Count Lucio loved to host extravagant parties for as many people as he can, he also is not going to have his palace overcrowded, and potentially ruined. So, while the elite of Vesuvia partied it up within the palace walls, the uninvited partied outside.

Usually you're careful with your purchases. Your aunt doesn't necessarily give you a cut of the profits at the end of the day; she gives just enough money for food. You had made a habit of tucking away one or two coins from lunches and dinners, just in case. But tonight, you had decided to let loose a little, and not worry about pinching every coin in the pouch your aunt handed you. The two of you hop from one food stall to another, grabbing various street cuisines. Once you both are full, you begin to explore game stalls with prizes, stalls with trinkets, and of course stalls with magicians for almost all kinds of magic. Between the two of you, you're able to spot all the frauds from the real magicians. Soon, it becomes a game of who could figure out which magicians are real or fake. 

Since meeting after sunset, the sky has been painted into a rich blue gradient, with the faintest traces of the setting sun. You could spot the twinkle of a few stars that shines against the abundant lights in the street.

“Hey, you think Muriel would like this?” you ask, staring at a small bear statue made from stone. “I feel like they have similar vibes."

Asra stares closely at the bear’s expression before laughing. “Yeah, it does.” He digs through his pouch to give the vendor money. Meanwhile, you pick up some chatter in the streets.

“I hear the palace will begin fireworks soon!”

“Oh, we need to find a good spot.”

“I hope there’s still some left, it’s not too long now.”

“Let’s go!”

You turn your attention back to your friend, who is tucking the statue safe in his pouch. “Hey, Asra, apparently the fireworks are going to start soon.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, we better find a spot. I’ve never had the chance to see them clearly, until now.”

“I think I know a place. Come on!” Asra waves for you to follow before dashing off.

Crossing your fingers that he's right, you follow, excitement welling inside you.

~~

After twisting and turning through the crowd, Asra leads you to a tight alleyway, connecting to a dark street on the other end. Most of it looks like abandoned shops and houses. 

“How are we supposed to see anything here?” you ask, watching with uncertainty as Asra scurried into the alley. 

“Oh come on, trust me,” he reassures before peeling back a wooden board to reveal a hole in the wall of one of the buildings. It's just big enough for him, and you.

Surprised, you watch as he ducks into the hole. Still hesitant, you walk over to the hole, checking behind you to make sure no one is paying too close attention.

Peering inside, Asra is waiting, a small but strong orb of light in his palm. “Come on,” he encourages with a smile.

Well, he hasn’t failed you this far. But if this is some weird way that you were going to die, it can’t have been all that bad, with the fun the two of you had tonight. You duck your head and in.

Still smiling, Asra takes your hand and guides the two of you through the abandoned shop. It's dark and damp, but Asra’s light is enough to see where you two are going.

With a warning to be careful, Asra leads up you up a decaying stairway, then to a risky looking ladder. Without hesitation, he disperses his light magic before grabbing the ladder’s lower rungs.

“Don’t worry, I’ve done this before,” he explains, voice hushed. "There’s a door to the roof at the top - I’ll open it. Just come when I say so.”

You nod, forgetting he can’t see you. “Ok.”

In the darkness, you hear him climb up the ladder. Soon, the sound of chains rattling and scraping gives way to the ceiling opening up to show the night sky.

“Alright, come on up,” you hear his lovely voice call out, giving the ok.

“Coming,” you call back before taking a brief moment to stare at the ladder. After taking the first hesitant step, you feel yourself growing more confident that the ladder won’t break under you, and swiftly climb up to the top.

The wind, carrying the scent of the distant sea, greets you as you grab Asra’s hand, hoisting you up on the roof. Looking out, you can see the rest of the night’s market below.

“Wow, this is amazing! How’d you find this?”

Asra chuckles, sitting down. “That’s kind of a funny story.”

You take a seat next to him. “Well, I’m all ears.”

He laughs again. “Alright, so I was—“

A loud whine and crack interrupts him. The two of you whip your heads around to see the light of a beautiful firework sparkle before fading. Another follows it, then two more follow that.

You turn to Asra, the smile on your face so wide it may hurt. This is amazing.

Asra returns your look, mirroring your happiness.

Guess the story can wait for another time…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!


	5. Slumber Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which your aunt steps away from the shop, and you invite Asra over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe enjoy me back on my bullshit

The Masquerade had been a blast. After the fireworks signaled the official beginning of the Masquerade, the two of you had quickly descended back into the crowd and continued your fun. You and Asra had scrambled some coins together for a couple games, and had even joined in on the dancing in the square. You had discovered that Asra is a fantastic dancer; you feel like you’re tripping over your feet every other beat in comparison. But he had never said anything, never laughed, just continued to give his encouraging smile.

It had only been until you felt like you were going to collapse that you said it may be time to call it a night. Asra’s expression had fallen a bit, but it followed with a rather wide yawn. You had giggled in response.

“Yeah, I guess it might be time to head home. Will you be ok?”

The question throws you off. “Ok? The shop is just a stone’s throw that way.”

“Yeah, but your aunt, I mean. She won’t yell at you, will she?” You can’t help but feel a flutter in your chest when he gives you a concerned look.

“I should be fine. Before we met up, she was headed to the Rowdy Raven. She probably got drunk there and is dead asleep now.”

Satisfied with your answer, he nods. “Alright. I’m going to head back to the hut in the forest.”

“Ok.” As much as you are tired, you wish the night didn’t have to end so early.

As if he was feeling the same way, Asra gives a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Returning the warm smile, you answer, “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

That had been a while ago. The festivities of the Masquerade had since died down, and now it’s pretty much back to your regular days.

Well, almost regular.

Your aunt has been increasingly out of the shop more, making more personal deliveries since the Masquerade. You’ve had more interaction with customers than you could remember ever having, and these days, your time is spent in the front just as much as in the back.

“Oi, I’m gonna be making a trip outside of Vesuvia,” your aunt suddenly says.

“What?” you say before you think. 

“We’re runnin’ low on newt’s tongues and salmonberries. I’ll be goin’ to harvest so’ more. It’ll be a bit o’ a trip, so you better take customers’ orders well while I’m gone. On the day after the next new moon, I’ll return.”

You feel panic grip you. You, alone, working the shop? The lunar cycle had just started. 

“A-are you sure?”

Your aunt just gives an exasperated sigh, annoyed. “Just take basic orders. If a customer asks for somethin’ that needs my attention, just say that it’ll have to be postponed until I return.”

Thinking briefly back, there had been a few charms or potions that you would have second guessed yourself on if you had made them, but the majority of the products had been more or less basic. Mostly cooling potions, some for light…

“Alright…hope the trip is fruitful,” you stammer as your aunt opens the door to leave. With one curt nod, the door slams behind her, ringing in your ears.

The shop is quiet, with the exception of the stove salamander, but your mind is buzzing. Alone? You’ve never been by yourself for that long, mostly because your aunt didn’t trust you to be alone in the shop. You’ve been alone at home, but that was many moons ago, barely within your memories. 

But the jingle of the front doorbell brings your attention to the customer who just entered. Trying not to trip over yourself, you hastily greet the customer, ready to take their order.

~~~

Thankfully there hadn’t been a really a big rush of customers before lunch. All the requests you had promised by tomorrow. If you’re lucky, maybe the afternoon’s orders would be simple as well. 

Grabbing some coins for lunch, you put out the lantern and draw the curtains. Oberon hops onto your shoulder and into his pouch, knowing it’s time for food. Feeling the confidence of running the shop successfully this morning, you smile as you jog out the back door. Your head immediately turns towards Asra’s spot.

“Asra!” you call as you trot over. “Do you have time to get lunch?”

“Hey!” Asra greets, perking up from laying on the ground. “Yeah, I’d love to, I’m starving." Even Faust bobs her head, happy to see us. It only takes a moment for Asra to gather his things.

“What are you in the mood for?” you ask.

“Let’s get something cold, I’ve been dying in the heat all morning.”

Agreeing, you both head to a shop that sells cold noodles and cucumbers. On the way over, you tell Asra about your aunt’s trip. Asra lights up when you say you have the shop to yourself.

“Wow, it’s like you own the place. I’m kinda jealous.”

“It’s only while she’s gone! I’m sure she’ll be back to her crabby self once she’s back. And what are you jealous for? It’s not like you have anyone bossing you around.”

“Yeah, but you live right above the shop. Muriel’s hut is in the forest, way out of here. It takes me so long to travel back and forth. I’ve honestly thought about just sleeping on my rug a couple of times…”

You hummed, arriving at the shop and getting in line for food. You take a brief moment to think before a thought pops up in your head.

“Asra, why don’t you stay with me?”

The question seems to shock the magician. “Really?”

“Yeah, my aunt’s away, and it’s not like she has eyes in the shop. As long as you leave before the new moon, you should be fine. Besides, it’s only going to get hotter from here on out. And I’d hate if you tried to sleep on the streets again…”

Asra gives you a compassionate smile. “That sounds amazing…I’ll talk to Muriel about it!”

You light up as you order your food.

~~~

As the Vesuvian sun trailed down under the horizon, you say a final farewell to your last customer of the day. You take a chance to breathe in the cooler air, thankful that the sun took the heat with it, leaving the nights as cool as a frog’s back.

Taking off your apron, you put out the lamp in the front of the shop and go to clean up the front counter. Oberon lays contently on the windowsill.

You hear a familiar voice call your name before the front door opens with a jingle. Looking up, you smile as you greet the curly haired boy.

“Hey, Asra!”

Closing the door behind him, he practically skipped over to the counter. “So I left early today to chat with Muriel - he’s fine if I stay here!”

Beaming, you respond. “That’s great! Is Muriel not joining too?”

Wilting a bit, Asra shakes his head. “No. He rarely, if ever, comes this deep into town. And now that the Masquerade is over, there’s not much he’s going to be making to sell, not for a while anyway. He much prefers the forest.”

You hum as you resume cleaning up the rest of the counter. Asra’s told you a bit about his quiet friend, but you’ve never actually met him. You had been hoping this would be your chance to, but you guess it’ll have to wait for another time.

“Do you need any help?” Asra offers as Faust slithers onto the counter.

“Oh, no no, don’t worry about it. I’m almost done anyway.” You didn’t want Asra to have to worry himself over your responsibilities.

“Alright,” you hear Asra giggle, finding him being groomed by Oberon.

You quickly count the money you made for the day and jot it down in the records. Giving the front space one last cursory glance, you hop over to the two.

“All done?” 

“Yeah, let me show you where I sleep.” You turn to the staircase up to the second floor.

“Does your stove salamander just sleep under the cauldron?” Asra asks as the both of you climb up the steps.

“Usually, yeah. Sometimes he gets clever and slips into the wood pile. That happened once and the shop almost caught fire. My aunt wasn’t very happy.” You chuckle, glad you’re able to laugh at the memory now. In the moment, you thought your aunt was going to decapitate you.

Asra laughs with you. “I wonder if he and Faust would get along. She loves warmth.”

“Maybe. But he’s still made of flames, so she has to be careful. Anyway,” you say, opening the door to your room. “Here’s where I sleep.”

You open the door to what looks like a closet, but is actually your room. A small bed of pillows and a couple of blankets take up some of the floor space, with a little room for your modest belongings. Miscellaneous items that couldn’t be stored on the first floor are crammed into the remaining space. Despite it, there isn’t too much dust, and is rather clean. 

“Wow, it’s cool you get your own room,” Asra remarks. He glances over to the adjacent bedroom door that’s ajar. “Is...that where your aunt sleeps?”

“Yeah. I was…never really supposed to be here for long...but after my parents dropped me off here the first time, I guess they decided that this was the most convenient option…” You can hear your voice fall as you explain your unfortunate circumstances.

Asra’s face drops as well. “I’m sorry...at least you know that they’ll return. I...I don’t know where my parents went…”

You look up into his face. Not once had you heard Asra mention his parents. You had figured that since Asra had always been at his booth that he had been just practicing his magic. But thinking properly, you had never seen anyone pick him up, or drop him off anything. Plus, he said he lived with Muriel in a cottage in the woods. You had just never put two and two together.

Setting a comforting hand on his shoulder, you murmur an apology. You feel his warm hand on yours, and the two of you share a short moment before he seems to perk up again.

“Are you hungry? Faust and I didn’t really get a chance to eat on the way back from the forest,” he says, wanting to break the rather heavy mood.

“O-oh!” you stutter, trying to bring yourself out of the downcast moment. “Yeah, there were customers coming in and out today, so I didn’t really eat after lunch.”

Asra set his things against a wall. “Great, let’s go! I passed by the baker and he said that he has more recipes ready for us to try.”

You light up at the mention of bread. “I like the sound of that!”

~ ~ ~

Biting down on the warm bread, you make sure to grab a chunk and give it to Oberon. You two had been lucky to catch the baker closing up shop, and bargained the day’s last bit of bread. Faust had found dinner behind the bakery, lending a hand in controlling the rodent population.

“Do you think your aunt would be mad if we slept in her bed?” Asra asks through a mouthful of bread.

The innocuous question didn’t stop a shiver from trickling down your spine. “No, no no no,” you repeat. “We can’t - she’d definitely find out, somehow. I don’t know how, but she would.”

Seeing that he spooked you a bit, Asra gives an apologetic look.

Opening up the back door, you let the magician sidle in first before locking up behind you. Making sure the front door is locked, and the stove salamander safe from getting into the wood pile, you follow Asra up the stairs.

“Um, I know there isn’t much space, I can go grab some more pillows from downstairs--ah, I should have thought of that sooner--” you stutter, half mumbling under your breath.

But Asra simply falls gracefully onto your makeshift bed. “What do you mean? There should be enough here.”

You feel warmth fill your cheeks. He wasn’t thinking...what you think you’re thinking.

“S-sleep together?” You couldn’t even form a full sentence, you think to yourself, wanting to smack yourself.

“Yeah…?” Asra confirms, raising an eyebrow, as if what you suggested was weird. “It gets cold at night. Besides, Muriel and I share a bed in the hut we found. It’s not like we can afford another bed…”

It does tend to get chilly at night, you think. Do friends normally share a bed? You really didn’t know, since a lot of the time you’re either alone at home or in the shop with your aunt.

Stuck in your thoughts, you watched absentmindedly as Asra stripped to his underclothes, getting comfortable. Coming back to your senses, you register what’s happening in front of you, and feel your entire face on fire.

Trying to act natural, you also get comfortable, praying you aren’t making a fool of yourself. Why are you so nervous? You two are just going to share a bed...yeah…

Almost tripping on your own feet, you sit on your side of the bed and fluff up the pillows. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Oberon getting comfy in your clothes, and Faust coiling up in the warmest corner she could find.

Asra tiredly stretches before sinking into the pillows, looking very comfortable. Glancing up at you, he invites you to lay beside him, despite it being your bed.

The day’s fatigue slowly washes over you. Sinking your head into your pillow sends a wave of relief through your body. You give Asra a smile before closing your eyes.

“Good night, Asra,” you say before yawning.

He chuckles and returns the wish good night. You swear you hear him mumble a “sweet dreams”, but sleep had already shut off your senses.


	6. Caught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which your sleepover with Asra gets ended very suddenly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all can follow me on asras-eyelashes.tumblr.com if y'all want updates...currently the fic has officially reached 100 pages on google docs heh

Having Asra sleep over was the best decision you had made in a long time. The first morning together was admittedly a bit getting used to.

You had woken up with your arm wrapped around something that you thought in the middle of the night was a pillow. But the pillow was certainly warmer than any pillow you had held before...and bonier? Opening your eyes, you found yourself latched onto Asra’s arm...with Asra’s amused face looking down at you, his eyes still hazy with morning drowsiness.

“Good morning,” he said softly, still very much amused.

Realization breaking through the morning fog, you jolted up, dropping Asra’s arm like it had been on fire.

“Asra, ohmigoshI’msosorryIdidn’tmean--” You’re cut off with the sound of his laugh.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s kinda funny.” After a good yawn and a stretch, he asked you what was for breakfast.

From there, the two of you had developed a nice schedule. After waking up, you had breakfast together before setting up the shop to be ready for the day. Then, the two of you would get lunch once the morning rush of customers died down after the heat set in. Usually Asra came to get you, setting his things inside the shop. Full from lunch, you two would go off to your respective posts until the sun set and the crowds meandered back home. Then a late dinner would sate your growling stomachs before reorganizing the shop after the day’s work. When the shop was finally clean, you would wash up before finding your night filled with chatter between you and Asra. Luckily the two of you would fall asleep before the sun rose, but it came close for a couple of nights.

From your late night chats, you learned a lot of things about Asra that you always wondered about previously. You had been disheartened to hear the circumstances of Asra and Muriel’s start to their friendship, but hearing how Asra met Faust, and her hatchday, was definitely uplifting. You in turn chatted with him about what little you remembered of your parents, how you met Oberon, and how your aunt taught you magic for potions and charms. You also learned how Asra learned magic.

“You were taught by what?” you blurt out

“Yeah...I remember my mom teaching me magic, and I was drawn to the cards. When I made my own deck, I...I spoke with one of them. The Magician.”

You stare at him, in shock. Was that possible? You only have an elementary knowledge of the Arcana and reading tarot, and while you understood that the Arcana use the cards to speak to you...but actually meeting them? And being taught magic?

“After my parents, they pretty much taught me all I know...maybe you can meet them one day,” Asra says hopefully.

“H-how would I be able to do that?” You couldn’t imagine that just anyone could communicate so easily to the major Arcana.

Asra’s hopeful mien drops to a puzzled one. “Hm...I...I actually don’t know...I just...kinda just speak to them,” he murmurs, stumped. His brows furrowed as he gazed into the ground, as if it held the answers.

A yawn from you breaks Asra’s thoughts, and he giggles. “I guess it’s time to sleep. I’m tired too.”

You smile. “Yeah. Maybe you’ll find your answers in a dream.”

You hear a hum. “Maybe…” He yawns before exchanging good nights with you and the familiars. Feeling his warmth beside you, you feel at ease and protected. You mumble a soft “good night”, before sleep embraces you.

~ ~ ~

Before the two of you knew it, the moon had reached the beginning of a new cycle. Tomorrow, your aunt was sure to come home. Neither of you said anything out loud, but both of you knew that it was time to go back as it was before.

Trying not to be too despondent, you keep your chin up throughout the day and do your best to help customers. To your pleasant surprise, you actually hadn’t gotten too many difficult orders. Granted, a few potions your aunt never explicitly taught you, but you are confident that your production of them are just as good as your aunt’s. But still, a small list sits behind the counter for your aunt when she returns.

Your mind wanders as the day creeps along. The new moon - making a basic panacea could be beneficial at the beginning of a new cycle. Maybe you and Asra could make one together, before your aunt comes…

The ring from the front door’s bell tugs you out of your daydreaming. You’re about to greet the customer, but stop in the middle of your words, laughing.

“Asra, what are you doing here?”

The boy grins playfully. “Nothing, I just wanted to see how you greet a customer. Didn’t know you laughed at them.”

You giggle some more. “Oh stop it, you. There’s still plenty of the day left, I thought you’d still be in business?”

He shrugs as Faust slips out to come out on the counter. “There aren’t that many people out right now. Besides, I thought it’d be nice to chat.”

It has been a rather slow day, not unusual after a big event. You smile, happy to have his company. “Alright, I can multitask while I put away some of these ingredients.”

Asra follows you into the back and proceeds to ask about several rarer herbs that he can spot. Some ingredients he says he’s seen Muriel forage, which only fuels your desire to meet his mysterious friend.

You walk back to the front of the shop to tidy up, but stop dead in your tracks. Dread makes your stomach drop to your feet.

Asra bumps into you as your aunt closes the front door. Your fear freezes your legs, and your hands clammy.

You can see your aunt turning red with anger as she does a double take between you and Asra.

“WHAT--WHAT IS THAT STREET RAT DOING IN THE SHOP?!”

“Asra, run!” you yell at Asra, pushing him towards the back.

Your aunt grabs the broom and furiously chases the two of you. Asra makes it to the door, despite almost tripping on his feet. He fumbles with the handle before swinging the backdoor open and jumping out into the street. You keep yelling to run as he runs out before feeling the shop broom slam into the back of your head. Letting out a sharp cry, you fall as you feel painful tears well up. Even though you had fallen, your aunt continues to berate you verbally and physically. You can’t register what she says through the pain, so you just curl up and cover your head, praying it’ll be over soon.

After what felt like an hour, she finally lets up. You can still feel anger flowing off of her like ferocious waves. The air is heavy with silence. Slow and cautious, you unfurl yourself and dare to look up at her. You quickly look back down to the ground, wishing you hadn’t. You were in so much trouble.

You hear the back door open, and your aunt mutters angrily, “Get to bed. No dinner.”

Still scared stiff, you try to get up without saying anything. But evidently, it wasn’t fast enough for your aunt.

“Now!” she bellows. Adrenaline kicks in and you race into the shop and up to your room.

~ ~ ~

The silence is deafening as you run up to your closet of a room. Making sure not to slam the door (your aunt hated that), you collapse down and feel hot tears. Why are you crying? You honestly have no idea, but you let your tears fall anyway.

Not after long, you’re pulled out of your thoughtless weeping when you hear...a voice? No, that couldn’t be -- there is only the occasional breeze and crickets in the air. But you heard something...in your mind?

_Help!_

Help? Who needs help? Was it Asra?

Who...who is this? You project your question in your heart and mind.

_Friend!_

Friend…?

Then it clicks.

Faust.

There was no time for him to get her when you forced him to run. Frantically thinking back, you last recall seeing the snake in the back room.

_I...I can’t leave my room. But I can tell you how to get up here!_

_Ok…_ Your heart clenches. Her voice sounds so small, she must be worried, especially after the terrifying display downstairs.

_You have to be careful of Lyra, my aunt’s familiar. She’s a pretty stubborn cat who’s always looking for trouble. There should be plenty of room under the cabinets for you to travel to the stairs. If you make it to the stairs without being caught, you should be ok._

Rather than a verbal confirmation, you feel Faust’s determination as she gets ready to head out.

You wait with bated breath. Should you send Oberon to help? Or would that attract more attention?

Ultimately, you decide that if she needs it, you’d send your familiar.

_Faust -- if you need help, I can send Oberon. Just let me know, ok?_

You feel her acknowledge your offer, then radio silence. Waiting with bated breath, you feel sweat trickle down your temples. Imagining the path up to your room, you try to imagine where she could be.

_Here._

Immediately, you crack open your door and see her lavender scales slide in. Relief filling your body, you close the door and let out a sigh you didn’t know you had been holding.

“Faust, I’m so sorry,” you whisper, stroking her head. “I-I should have tried to get you to Asra...but he was in trouble.”

You feel her in your mind, saying it’s ok.

“How can I hear you…? I guess I’ll have to ask Asra...but we have to get you to him.”

You think to yourself now. Your aunt is probably going to have you work tomorrow, that was for sure. She’ll probably work you to your bone...you aren’t looking forward to that. But she’ll have to give you time to get lunch. There really isn’t much in the shop other than a quick bite for breakfast. Will she follow you to lunch? No, she usually works while you go eat…

Feeling the day’s fatigue get to you, you let out another sigh. “I guess we’re going to have to play it by ear. But I will say, I don’t usually return up here once I start work downstairs, so you’ll probably have to stick with me until lunch. Is that alright?”

She nods.

Resigning to leave it at that, you get ready for bed. Oberon curls up next to Faust in comfort. As you lay in your bed, the last thought you have before falling asleep is how empty the spot next to you felt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've edited the chapter since i realized that Faust's italicized thoughts were, uh, not italicized.


	7. Secret Rendezvous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you have to find a way to meet up with Asra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aye look at that i uploaded on time for once

Harsh knocking on your door jolts you awake. Feeling your body move faster than your brain can comprehend, you grab your clothes as your aunt yells at you to get downstairs.

Through your drowsy panic, you go to Faust. “Hey, ok my apron is downstairs, but you can chill in my shirt, is that ok? I have a high collar, so make yourself comfortable.”

 _Ok!_ She says before slithering down your shirt collar. You try to fight back a burst of laughter - that tickled! You really hope that won’t be happening too often throughout the day.

Oberon hops on your shoulder before you dart downstairs.

As soon as your feet hit the shop floor, your aunt barks at you to prepare ingredients for three different potions. You recognize some of them being for the list of those you wrote down for her in her absence. Wordlessly you slip into the back and drearily gather the equipment you need to prep.

This is going to be a long morning, wasn’t it?

~ ~ ~ ~

The answer to your question had been a resounding yes.

After you prepped all you could for the potions on her shortlist, your aunt had handled the rest on it, but also made you take inventory of materials for charms. Oberon had to sneak breakfast for the two of you while you kneeled down in the cabinets to check all the materials. Usually this meant she had you run around the markets to buy more of what the shop needed. But is she really going to let you out after her finding Asra in the shop? You had your doubts.

Lunchtime rolls around both too quickly and not quick enough. You finish your inventory, writing down the materials that needed to be picked up.

“A’right, here,” your aunt says brusquely, throwing you a pouch of coins. “Go get yer lunch then the materials we need. I’ve already had enough of travelin’ aroun’. And don’ even think about seein’ that fortune brat - I’ll make sure of it.” Just then, Lyra comes into view and gives you a pointed look.

You gulp before smothering any signs of anxiety. “Right.” Tense, you turn and leave out the back exit.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a familiar head of white hair. But a smart nip to your heel tells you to keep moving.

Faust couldn’t slip out now, not with Lyra here. Worry knits your brows as you hear Asra calling your name. His familiar wriggles under your shirt, probably to poke her head out to see Asra, but you send the mental image of Lyra following you, and she stills. After a moment, Asra stops calling your name. You feel your insides twist in regret.

~ ~ ~ ~

The apprehension of Lyra following you around town had turned into almost unbearable anxiety. You couldn’t even have a break for lunch, you had just bought it and ate as you walked. What’s worse is that the shops that you need to get the materials from are scattered all around the market. It’s going to take you almost the entire afternoon to get everything, and your aunt’s familiar is going to be trailing you during all of it. Great.

 _Asra coming_ , Faust suddenly says.

Shock almost stops you in your steps, but you luckily cover it up with a fake trip.

 _What do you mean?_ You ask.

_Meeting us._

Your thoughts are racing. How is he going to avoid Lyra? But then again, if anyone could do it, it would be Asra.

You step up to another shop, and you’re greeted by the usual shopkeep. After requesting the items you need, you notice a boy eyeing you from the shelves. At first, you give him a weird look, but then Faust chimes in.

_Asra!_

With a start, you glance back at the boy. He doesn’t have Asra’s white hair...but then your eyes meet. You find yourself gazing into familiar, violet eyes...

It _is_ Asra.

You turn your head back to the counter, trying to act natural. Peeking up at the shopkeep, you notice he’s still gathering and measuring out the things you requested. He probably wouldn’t mind if you browsed a bit…

You pretend to look around the shelves, as if you debated on getting something for the shop just in case. You wander over closer to where Asra is, looking like you’re inspecting the prices of different products. Step by step, you keep ‘browsing’ until you meet Asra’s eyes across you from behind the shelf. Under your collar, you feel Faust wriggle.

Trying to think of how to get her to him, you put your hands up on the basket that held bat wings, pretending to get a better look at their quality. You feel Faust slither down your collar and up one of your outstretched arms. Asra reaches up to another basket next to yours, and in a flash, Faust darts from your sleeve to Asra’s.

Relief washes over you and you put the basket of wings back. Meeting his eyes one last time, the two of you exchange brief smiles before you hear the shopkeep ring up your order. Turning back to go to the counter, you thankfully see that Lyra had been lazily grooming herself the entire exchange.

You pay for your goods and head on to the next shop, acting as if it’s just another day.


	8. Small Serendipities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which luck seems to be going your way today

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why are chapter titles so hard

For what felt like forever, you had been either under the piercing watch of your aunt or her familiar. Even the weather seemed to react to her cold gaze. The sweltering heat of summer gave way to cool autumn breezes. By this time, when you had done nothing out of the ordinary, everyone involved in this whole fiasco came to a silent agreement that it is becoming tiring.

When your aunt hands you a couple coins for lunch today, she mutters, “Today’s a slow day. Take the rest of the day off, an’ get outta my sight.”

A bit surprised, you look up. “Really? A-are you sure?”

Your aunt just grunts a ‘yes’. “Now git before I change my min’.”

Glancing at an aloof Lyra, who sits beside her, you sputter a reply and turn on your heel. You briefly beam at Oberon before quickly heading out the door.

Your head instantly turns to seek out Asra, who is just finishing a reading for a lone passerby. As the customer gets up to leave, you run over and fall on your knees beside him.

“Asra, ohmigosh, hi, I feel like it’s been so long, I’m so sorry, is Faust--” Your babbling is cut off with a fierce hug. The surprise embrace makes you pause for a second before reciprocating.

The two of you release the hug when you feel Faust climb up to give a squeeze to you and Oberon.

_ Friend back! _

You let out a giggle. “Yeah, friend is back.” You pat Faust on the head before looking back at Asra.

The two of you share another silent moment before Asra breaks it with a chuckle. “Your aunt is...scary.”

Thinking of nothing else, you laugh. “Yeah, no kidding.” You get up and dust off your knees. “Hey, guess what - my aunt gave me the rest of the day off!”

You offer your hand to help Asra get up. He takes your hand and grins. “Really? Wow, that’s kinda crazy.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me. We’ve been a bit slow, I guess. Or she’s realized that she’s been working me from sun up to sun down.” You laugh it off, but truth be told, you haven’t felt this tired in a long time. 

Deciding today is a good day as any to celebrate, the two of you agree to go to the bakery for lunch.

“It has been slow...Maybe we can go around the rest of town today,” Asra suggests.

You light up at his words. “Yeah, that sounds fun. As long as I’m back before dark, I should be fine.” You feel your heart flutter when Asra mirrors your enthusiasm, excited for the day now.

“Oh yeah, Asra,” you say, suddenly realizing something. “The night you...got kicked out, I think...I think I talked with Faust?”

“Oh?” Asra turns his head to his familiar on his shoulder. The snake simply flickers her tongue playfully.

“Yeah, we exchanged words, like, mentally? It’s...sort of weird to explain.”

You see Asra just smile. “Seems like she’s really opened up to you. I’ve only known her to do that with people she trusts. So far, that’s been just me and Muriel. But I’m glad you can talk with her too.”

“Yeah, me too.” But doubt and worry makes your stomach heavy. You hadn’t had Oberon for too long, but neither of you have been able to communicate like Faust had. Staring at your familiar, he seems to sense your worry and grooms your hand. You simply smile, trying not to think about it too much. You’re sure it’ll come to you sooner or later.

Walking up to the counter at the bakery, you two sit by a figure hooded in purple. You glance at the unfamiliar person. After frequenting the bakery so often, both you and Asra have become familiar with the usual customers, but this is the first time you’re seeing this person...especially someone so well dressed. Despite attempting to blend in by obscuring their face, they still have on very royal colors and fabric. You definitely haven’t seen anyone like them around here.

Turning your attention to the hot loaves in front of you, you thank Asra for ordering them. Feeling your stomach growl, you ravenously bite into the loaf, regretting it as it burns your tongue.

“Owow!” 

Asra laughs beside you. “I thought I said they’re hot.”

Fanning out your tongue, you sheepishly grin. “I may or may not have heard you.”

Asra giggles before ripping off a chunk to eat. You feel Oberon wriggle out from your apron and onto the counter. Absentmindedly, you tear off a small bit for him, but take another bite for yourself. 

“Oh!” you hear the stranger beside you blurt out.

Realizing the bit you had torn off for your familiar is untouched, you look around and find Oberon sniffing the stranger beside you.

“Oh, I’m sorry! Come back here, boy,” you apologize, grabbing him. “Sorry about that, you must have something that smells good.”

“Ah, I just bought some nuts from another stall. I can spare him some.” They reach into a pouch to get a few.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about tha--oh!” Your words stop as you realize who the person is.

It’s the lady from the carriage, when you first met Asra.

“You-you’re the--” A hand over your mouth quiets you. She puts a finger up to her lips in a hush. From behind you, Asra says your name.

“What’s going on?” He then looks to see what’s going on, and also goes wide eyed.

“Please, come with me.” With that, she left her seat and slips into an alleyway beside the bakery.

You glance at Asra, who also glances at you, before putting a coin for the bread on the counter and following suit.

The lady lowers her veil and speaks. “How did you know who I was?”

Asra chuckles. “Well it’s a little obvious. Your clothes are way too nice.”

She looks down at her attire, assessing it. With a mildly annoyed huff, she says, “This is the most plain outfit I could find.”

You and Asra eye each other.  _ This _ is plain for her? 

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

She turns her attention back to the two of you. “You may know that the Count and I got married right before the Masquerade.”

Well, as a matter of fact, you did not know that. “R-really?”

“I feel like he would have held some sort of huge party for the wedding,” Asra remarks.

“It was a rather...rushed affair. That was another reason he spared no expense on the rather lavish Masquerade.” After a withering eye roll, to which you and Asra giggle behind your hands at, she continues. “I’m a bit ashamed to say that the Masquerade was my first visit to Vesuvia, so I thought that I could go undercover and explore the city.”

You have always been on the fence about whether fate is real, but this is a bit too much to be a coincidence. You find yourself meeting Asra’s surprised look as well. Who would have thought?

“Well,” Asra says with a playful smile. “You certainly can’t go around Vesuvia like this - you’d definitely attract much too much attention. We do know the shopping district pretty well, and can probably create a better disguise for you.” He puts an arm around you, making you blush.

“Is that right?” she asks.

“We  _ could _ ,” you jump in as Asra’s voice of reason. “If we had the coins for it...I only really had enough for food today…”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, I can have that covered.” The lady takes out a coin purse and opens it. When you peer in, you bite your lip to not say anything. You haven’t seen this many gold coins in...well, ever.

“If that’s the case,” Asra says, perking up. “Then we’d be honored to journey with you over town today.”

“Yes! Besides, it’s much more fun to explore with friends,” you chime in. “Er, I mean, if we can be friends,” you quickly say, not wanting to get ahead of yourself.

The lady smiles warmly. “I would like that. It’s a bit lonely, being in the palace by yourself. Oh, where are my manners -- my name is Nadia.”

Smiling, you introduce yourself to the Countess, and Asra follows.

“Luckily the shopping district isn’t too far from here. We should be able to find something for you there.”

With a satisfied hum, Nadia pulls up her hood again and you peek out the alleyway. No one’s suspected anything, so you signal to slip into the street.


	9. Uncommon Extravagence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you and Asra spoil the Countess, and the Countess spoils you back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy!!

“So, if the Masquerade was your first time visiting Vesuvia, where did you live before?” Asra asks as the three of you walk.

“I am from the North, a place called Prakra.”

“My aunt’s been there a couple of times to get some ingredients for our shop!”

“Oh, your shop?”

“Yeah, my shop is a little back past the bakery. My aunt brews potions and creates charms, and I’ve been, er, helping out.” You didn’t really want to say that you got stuck there under less than ideal circumstances.

“My, you’re a magician!” Nadia gasps, clearly intrigued.

“Oh, uh, n-not officially--”

“Oh come on,” Asra butts in. “You’ve said yourself that you could do most of what your aunt does. You really are gifted in magic.”

Turning red at the sudden wave of compliments, you try to direct it elsewhere. “I-If anyone’s a magician, it’s Asra. He’s done things I’ve never even seen before.”

“It’s nothing, just things I’ve picked up here and there. I’m sure you could do just as well if you’ve been taught what I have,” Asra says, waving his hand dismissively. 

“My, my, two magicians. I feel very fortunate to have stumbled upon you two. I hope I’m able to see a demonstration of your skills one day.”

You brighten up at that. “Maybe Asra can give you a reading,” you suggest, excited to show off your friend’s talents.

“That does sound lovely.” Nadia turns her head to Asra, silently asking for his permission.

Seeing both pairs of eyes on him, Asra breathes out a chuckle and shrugs. “Guess I have no choice. Alright, Countess, you can expect one reading at the end of the day.”

Nadia clasps her hands together in delight. “Thank you, Asra.”

The street slowly gives way to crammed stalls and booths, full of wares, clothes, and trinkets. The ambling passersby in the street crescendoed into buzzing crowds, air filled with chattering. Nadia silently marvels at the never ending activity around her.

“Let’s start with replacing that headdress,” Asra suggests, spotting a booth that has scarves and shawls of all kind.

“Good idea,” you second.

The three of you weave through the crowd up to the booth. Nadia is careful to keep one hand on her hood to make sure she keeps a low profile. Even with her elegant clothing, everyone seems to be busy going about their own business. 

“Something that doesn’t attract too much attention...aha!” Asra mutters before lighting up. He digs through a couple of head scarves before finding one in a muted orange color. 

You give a thumbs up when he looks up to you for your thoughts. Nadia slips Asra a coin and he buys the scarf. After thanking the stall owner, you three slip a bit away, and Asra hands Nadia the scarf.

“Thank you,” Nadia says as she takes off her hood.

“No problem. It’s not exactly high quality, but it’ll definitely help you blend in,” Asra returns.

You offer to hold Nadia’s hood so she can put her new one on. When she takes it off, you marvel at how long her hair is. But she quickly tucks it into her new hood and adjusts herself.

“How do I look?” she asks.

“Better,” Asra says. You nod, but still aware that the rest of her clothes stand out. Looking around, you see another booth that sells flowing tunics. Tugging on Asra’s sleeve, you point at the stall. “How about we throw in one of those?”

He looks to where you point and smiles. “Perfect, it should fit over what you have on now, Nadia.” Nadia nods in agreement.

The three of you head over and you select a warm mustard tunic. With Nadia’s coin, you pay and you all slip away so Nadia can put the tunic over her clothes. It isn’t much, but  it’s honest work  now she has a better chance of blending in.

Proud of your and Asra’s handiwork, the three of you set off to properly enjoy the shopping district. You pass by more stalls with clothes, fabrics, and jewelry.

“Is it common for vendors to sell imitation gems?” Nadia asks, eyeing a few jewelry booths. She quickly averts her eyes right as one merchant catches her eye and barks at her.

“I’m not too surprised. Are there a lot of fakes?” Asra asks, peeking at the gems now.

“Quite, but I presume to an unknowing eye, they are passable.”

“You can identify gemstones?” you ask, impressed. Did all Countesses know how to do that?

“Well, I’ve seen my fair share when I was residing back in Prakra as a princess.”

Both your and Asra’s eyes widen. “You were a princess?” you both ask in unison, shocked.

Nadia glances away, cheeks warm. “Yes, the youngest of seven sisters…”

You glance at Asra. Seven sisters? You could barely imagine having a proper mother and father, let alone so many siblings.

“If you were a princess, then why leave? Isn’t it...a bit of a downgrade, going from a princess to a countess?” Asra asks thoughtfully.

To your surprise, Nadia lets out a huff. “I suppose. But my sisters are all insufferable. They always coddle me, thinking I’m simply a doll to be protected. I never could make a choice for myself. Then I met Lucio, and, well, here I am.”

Sounds like a whirlwind of a story, you think to yourself. Surely Nadia condensed it, but you’d love to know the details. Maybe some day…

As you travel around the shopping district, the three of you find yourselves chatting about your past, present, and desired future. You and Asra find yourselves steering Nadia towards the Temple District, grabbing some sweet treats along the way. You let Oberon have a lick, after he gives you his best begging eyes.

You join Nadia in admiring the different religious structures. You really hadn’t gone into this part of town (your aunt found no reason to let you in this part of town), so it’s refreshing to see something new. Lanterns sway lazily in the air as all of you explore the district.

After exploring the temples, the three of you head closer to the town square to find dinner. Nadia insists on treating for dinner, and while you and Asra politely decline at first, you quickly give in. A nice, sit-down dinner paid by the Countess is a rare treat to stumble upon, and your mouth waters thinking about what you could eat.

“I think I’m craving seafood - how about over there?” Nadia suggests, pointing out a restaurant by the canal.

Your heart feels too giddy in anticipation for the food. “Sounds great,” you say.

“Let’s go!” Asra agrees, and the three of you head over.

At first, you feel a little out of place, since many of the other patrons are older, but your stomach quickly makes you forget your doubts. Nadia orders one dish after another, and you and Asra can’t believe your luck.

“I think this is the best I’ve eaten in my life, ever,” Asra softly murmurs.

Nadia simply giggles. “You both are more than welcome to the palace - I’d love to shower your palates with more food.”

“Really? Oh, Nadia, you’re too kind,” you say between bites.

“It’s a shame however -- I have yet to see swordfish in Vesuvia. That is something I may have to request the chef at the palace to make.”

“Swordfish? Is that common in Prakra?” Asra asks after quickly swallowing another mouthful.

“It was available to me back home. Spiced swordfish is my favorite dish. One of the few things I miss about home,” Nadia says wistfully.

“Wish we could try some,” you say, portioning off some more food for Oberon.

“If I find it again, you shall be the first to know,” Nadia promises. You and Asra grin in return.

The three of you finish dinner before leisurely heading back to your shop, and Asra’s booth. Nadia’s tarot reading is the last item of the day.


	10. Just Pick Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nadia gets a reading

The setting sun casts a warm glow in Asra’s booth. You all sit in a circle as Asra shuffles, then cuts the cards for a three card reading.

“Alright, Nadia, pick a pile,” Asra invites, laying out the three piles he set in front of her.

She thinks for a moment before pointing to one. Putting the other two aside, Asra then fans out the cards in a circle, placing one card in the middle.

“Now, pick three that call to you. The order of the cards you pick will be your past, present, and future.”

Nadia simply nods before carefully selecting three cards. Asra sets the rest aside and straightens the three she had picked in front of her.

“For your past, the knight of wands, reversed,” Asra begins, flipping over her leftmost card. “The knight of wands can be read as being at a loss of power, or frustration. Perhaps something to do with how you feel about your family…?” he asks with a mysterious air, glancing up at the Countess.

She simply hums, staring at the card with a contemplative gaze. After a moment, she turns her attention to the next card. Asra takes her queue and flips it.

“The High Priestess, reversed,” he reads. With a hum, he interprets it. “Looks like you’re having a bit of difficulty listening to your intuition? She’s telling me you may be even ignoring it.”

“She told you this?” Nadia asks, eyes wide.

Asra nods. “She encourages you to trust your intuition - not everything is made right with purely rational thought.”

You stare at the cards as well, wondering if the whispers in the air are just in your head. It’s almost like overhearing a conversation between two people, like you’re intruding. You shift your attention to Nadia, trying to ignore the hushed words.

Something like regret or guilt passes through Nadia before she takes a deep breath. She seems to be lost in thought, but looks to the last card.

Flipping it over, Asra listens. “Ah, the four of swords, upright. It looks like your future will hold a resting period for you. It’s definitely always good to retreat and take a break, but sometimes it’s not your choice to. Just remember to not work yourself to exhaustion.”

Concluding his reading, Asra lets Nadia sit in thought, patient as ever. After a few minutes pass, she seems to emerge from her mind.

“Thank you, Asra. I’m glad for this insight. You are indeed a talented magician, unlike many charlatans I’ve seen.”

Asra simply smiles. “Of course. I hope this was helpful.”

She hums softly. “Indeed.” You smile proudly at your friend. 

Nadia rises, and the two of you follow. “It seems like it’s time to part; it’s getting quite late.”

You agree, thankful that Asra’s booth is right next to your shop. “Will you be alright getting back to the palace?”

“Yes, I can hail a carriage back. Thank you, both of you. I had a lovely time. The two of you must come by the palace, it would be lovely to have guests.”

“Sounds fun! If we’re allowed, I guess,” you chuckle, wondering what the guards would say.

“I’ll be sure of it,” Nadia reassures. “I’m sure the Count will be having some sort of celebration in the near future. You both should most definitely come.”

You gape. An official invitation to the palace? A million different thoughts fly into your head, but a carriage comes by and Nadia hails it. Turning to you and Asra, she says one final farewell before entering and riding off back to the palace.

You turn to look at Asra, who has a similarly surprised face. He smiles, and the two of you can’t help but laugh. What a crazy day!

“Our luck is amazing,” he simply says.

You giggle, still a bit speechless. Then you notice that the sun is barely in the sky anymore. “I should go, don’t want my aunt to say anything.”

Asra’s shoulders sag a bit. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Giving him a warm smile, you nod. Then, to your delight and surprise, he gives you a quick, but tight, hug. Something flutters in you as you take in his warmth.

With another smile, he gathers his things and sets off. 

Feeling light, you walk back home, ready for a good night’s rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm a hoe for comments y'all make my day :')


	11. Ousted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which your relationship with your aunt takes a turn for the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If y'all wanted angst....y'all gon' get angst! This is where the story will diverge a bit depending on y'all's MC ^_^

Time passed at a mundane pace before Asra unfortunately had told you that he needed to be away for some time. His mentor, the Magician, would be taking him on a sort of spiritual journey to better strengthen his magic. You knew this was going to be good for him, but you were still sad when he told you. His company was something you always look forward to, a refreshing break from the brusque attitude of your aunt. But you could handle it - you did it before, right?

The night Asra set out, you had sneaked out and had given him a charm you had woven for protection and safe travels. It had been quick work, but you were still proud of it. Asra thanked you with a smile and another all-embracing hug, promising to be back soon.

The days then kept passing almost listlessly, a trickling flow of customers coming in and out of the shop, leaving more time for you to think and daydream. The once refreshing breeze of cooler weather gradually builds a bite, signaling the colder weather it would be bringing. Your aunt still wakes you up much too early for your preference, her usual strict self. But after noticing that Asra’s booth is empty for a few days, her mood lightens, which you internally frown at. Did he really bother her that much?

“Bad for business,” she would mutter when you had the courage to ask her while you sweep up the shop.

“But he attracts people almost right to our shop,” you counter, getting frustrated of her insubstantial criticisms.

She waves her hand, dismissive. “Don’t need none of that cheatin’ magic in anyone’s head.”

You frown to yourself, to which Oberon licks you sympathetically. Giving him a gentle scritch, you continue your chore.

During your lunch break, you would find yourself turning your head expectantly towards Asra’s booth, before the realization that he isn’t there hits you. Even the baker had noticed that the novice fortune teller had been away. The fact that Asra never said when he was coming back didn’t help either.

Time continues to pass, and your luck continues to slowly turn sour. From accidentally misweaving a few charms to tearing your clothes, it had seemed like nothing is really going your way. But all that had been just accumulating to come crashing down on you.

_If your MC is trans masc, go to chapter 12_

_If your MC is trans femme, go to chapter 13,_

_If your MC is cis, go to chapter 14_


	12. Ousted: If MC is trans masc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which your relationship with your aunt takes a turn for the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can y'all tell I've been processing stuff via this fic

The dusty straws of the broom scrape your face, causing you to fall over. Coughing from the dust and debris, you try to clear your system, preparing yourself.

“I can’t believe this. No won’er your parents lef’ you behind with me. Unbelievable…”

You feel tears sting the scratches on your cheeks. You want to fight back, to say something...but you’re at a loss. You can only hear yourself stutter meaningless sounds before your aunt raises the broom again, a threat.

“Ah ah, not another word out of yer mouth. I don’t want you under this roof - you find your own place to sleep.”

Biting your lip, you manage to squeak, “W-what about work?” Surely you wouldn’t just be thrown onto the street, without a home or pay.

Your aunt merely tsks disapprovingly. “I ain’t about’ta waist all that training I did on ya. You come in for work every morning, same time as usual. But if yer ever late, I’m gonna reconsider, ya hear?!”

Tears then overflow. “O-ok…” you manage to say, holding back hiccups.

With one final grunt, your aunt turns and slams the back door close.

Laying in the dust, you clench your fist as you finally let out the sobs you were holding in. What was so wrong with what you had said? Was it wrong? Were you a mistake?

Through your tears, you hear your name. Already knowing who’s voice it was, you feel relief briefly wash over you, before terror and embarrassment do. 

Asra runs over, concern etched on his face. Dread just fills your stomach. Your aunt had all but went berserk after what you said - what would Asra say? Would he be disgusted? Would he laugh? You couldn’t bear it if he did.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, kneeling beside you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

Sniffling back the rest of your tears, you muster the energy to sit up right. You want to tell him how happy you are to see him, to ask him about his journey, his training with the Magician, but you can’t seem to find any words. Oberon crawls up to your shoulder and tries to groom away the blood and tears. Faust, meanwhile, peaks up through Asra’s scarf, worried.

When you couldn’t find the energy to speak, you hear Asra repeat gently, “What’s wrong?”

Feeling another wave of hot tears threatening to overflow, you bite the inside of your cheek. “My...my aunt just kicked me out…” you whisper, not meeting his eyes.

You hear Asra take in a sharp breath. “Why?” he asks. You hear anger mixed with his concern in his voice.

You pause for a moment to sniff back more tears. “I...I said something I shouldn’t have.”

In the pregnant pause between the two of you, you suddenly feel the rays of the setting sun and the dust of the street. You’re aware of passersby eyeing the two of you strangely, some almost tripping over the two of you.

As if sensing your thoughts, Asra wordlessly helps you get up and tenderly guides you over to his rug in the shade.

Grateful that he hadn’t pried too much, you take another shaky breath before speaking. “My...my aunt made some sort of comment on my clothes...and I told her that...that I don’t--I’m not a girl…”

You physically braced yourself, anticipating a similar horrified reaction from Asra as your aunt had. Fearful of his rejection, you hear yourself babbling half sentences of excuses and desperate explanations that you aren’t a girl or a boy. But to your surprise, there was no slap, no pain, no appalled yelling. Instead, you feel warm hands embrace you. Asra quiets you by gently saying your name.

“Hey, it’s ok...it’s ok...I’m the same.”

Your eyes widen. You had always felt alone in feeling like you were regarded as someone different than what you identified as. Never in your wildest dreams would you imagine that the boy on the street beside your shop would feel this way.

You gently break the hug to finally look at Asra properly. The amount of compassion and understanding in his face causes a faint pink blush to color your cheeks. 

“People regard me as a boy...but that’s not really how I feel. I don’t know the word for it, but the words ‘girl’ or ‘boy’ doesn’t really fit it…” 

You simply nod before giving Asra a gripping hug, more tears spilling onto his shoulder. So many emotions are flooding your being. You feel hurt, but comforted, elated and touches that Asra could share this with you, but the gnawing feeling of being an outsider still resides. But it subsides the smallest bit when your friend returns the hug. The two of you stay like this for some time; it could have been a few seconds or a few hours. But both of you savor the shared moment.

As time passes, your tears dwindle, and your breath evens. Releasing your clutch on Asra and look at him. You’re taken a bit off guard to see his eyes are also a bit misty eyed. Emotions tumble through you, and you wonder what you did to deserve such a person in your life.

Gradually coming back to reality, you realize that the street lights have turned on, and that the sun is leaving its last traces in the sky. Turning your head to the shop, fear takes hold of you. Would you have to sleep in the streets? You didn’t know much about Asra, but he’s told a couple of tales of his former life without a roof over his head. It wasn’t pleasant.

“Asra...what am I going to do? I...I don’t have anywhere to go,” you say, voice desolate.

He simply lifts a finger under your chin, as if silently saying to perk up. “You’re not sleeping out in the streets if that’s what you’re thinking. Come on,” he says, rising to pack his things. “You’re coming with me tonight. I’m sure Muriel won’t mind.”

Your mouth simply falls open, silently watching Asra pack his things. “A-are you sure?” you ask, stumbling to stand.

Turning to look at you, he chuckles. “I would never want my friend to experience what Muriel and I did in the streets of this city. Muriel isn’t fond of people, but I’m sure he can be empathetic to your situation. Now,” he says, securing his things onto his person. He offers his hand to hold on the journey to the forest. “Let’s get going before it gets too dark out.”

Still not believing your ears, you take his hand. As the two of you walk, Asra turns to you. “So, do you have preferred pronouns?”

  
~ ~ ~

  
You and Asra walk through the quieting streets of Vesuvia. Tears all dried up, you tell Asra your preferred pronouns, among other anecdotes of your confused feelings. Asra in turn tells you about his mental and spiritual journey to understanding his gender identity. You feel overwhelmed with gratitude and happiness that your closest friend not only accepts you, but also trusts you to tell all of this. You almost don’t notice that the entire time you’ve been walking, your hand has been gently wrapped in his.  


Eventually, the streets dwindle into dirt roads that fade into the entrance of the forest. The sun is setting beyond the horizon, leaving a pink glow in its wake. There’s just enough light for you to make out the steps in front of you.

“We’re almost there. Don’t worry, I won’t let you get lost,” Asra reassures, giving your hand a soft squeeze.

You nod, certain that he wouldn’t do that to you.

As you begin the walk into the forest, Asra’s careful to warn you of sneaky roots and hidden holes that you could trip on. You feel like it should have been getting darker, but the forest canopy is thick enough to obscure any light that’s left in the sky. But Asra seems to know his way well enough. 

Soon, you recognize a small protection charm that you had made for Asra some time ago.

“Is...that the charm I gave you?” you ask.

“Yep, we’re almost there now. I put these up around to help Muriel feel protected, and to keep our little abode hidden.”

Then you see another, and another, then a string of charms and herbs. They all lead to a lightly beaten path that ends with a small hut mashed into the base of a tree.

“Alright, we’re here. Let me go get Muriel. I wish you two could meet under better circumstances,” he sighs ruefully. He gives one light squeeze of your hand before letting it go to open the hut’s door.

“Muriel, could you come outside for a minute?” he calls. 

Suddenly, you feel nervous and timid. What if Muriel doesn’t like you? What if he won’t let you stay? This is your first time meeting him, surely strangers don’t just let people stay in their houses? But you two aren’t total strangers either…

As you fidget, the door opens wider to reveal a rather large figure. You can’t help your eyes going wide as your gaze rises to meet his. You could have sworn Asra said he’s the same age as the two of you!

But upon closer look, you see weary, but young, eyes meet yours briefly, before looking away. Asra kindly smiles and stands beside his friend, patting his arm.

“Muriel, this is the friend who I’ve told you about, the one who let me stay in their shop,” Asra says, before officially introducing the two of you. The whole time, Muriel is silent, expression ambiguous.

“It’s getting dark, and the shop isn’t really too safe for them anymore...I was thinking we could offer our place here,” Asra gently explains.

Muriel dwells on it for a minute, before he seems to make up his mind.

“No. Leave.”

Shock and fear crashes onto you like an icy cold bucket of water. Your eyes go wide as your chest constricts with panic.

Asra mirrors your shock and looks up at his friend. “Muriel--wha--wait, no, they need somewhere to stay. We can’t just let them on the streets, think about what that was like for us,” he insists.

Your panic twists your fear into guilt and shame. Of course it would be too much for Asra and Muriel to house you. Looking at the hut, it seems barely big enough for Muriel, let alone him and Asra. 

“A-Asra, it’s ok...I can-I can figure something out,” you stammer, breaking through him convincing his quiet friend.

“What? No, you can’t, it’s much too dark now,” Asra argues, hints of desperation in his eyes. He comes to your side and brings your hand into his, as if to keep you near him. “And I won’t let you go through what we did. Muriel, please, be reasonable.”

Hopelessness returning, you look up to meet Muriel’s gaze. “I-I won’t take up much room, I promise. I just...need somewhere to sleep…” you plead, while your thoughts anxiously wonder what you’re going to do if he says no again.

Muriel closes his eyes, brows furrowed. When he opens them, he answers. “Fine…” He then simply goes back to the door and opens it, silently letting us in.

Relief makes your legs weak; you’re glad Asra’s there to support you. You give a small smile before the two of you enter the hut.

There are minimal furnishings, just enough to get by. But the strong fire warms the entire place, and fills you with warmth. It feels like a home.

“Ah, the two of us usually share a bed, but I think there’s an extra blanket or cloak somewhere….” Asra mutters. He leaves your side, trying to get you accomodated. 

You look up at Muriel, who seems only mildly annoyed now. “Thank you, Muriel. I know this is all pretty sudden...but thank you.”

He subtly pouts his lips, whether in annoyance or discomfort you don’t know. “What happened to your old place…?” he asks under his breath. You aren’t sure if you’re meant to hear the question, but you decide to answer anyway.

“Uh, my...aunt just kicked me out...I guess she finally had enough of me. She and I...didn’t really get along.”

Muriel’s irritation lessens, his tense shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. “What happened?”

You’re about to answer when Asra comes back to you. “Does this look ok?” You turn your attention to the makeshift bed he made for you on the floor. Graciously smiling, you thank him. “It’s perfect.”

He seems relieved. “Thank you, Muriel.”

Cheeks turning red from the attention, the tall boy averts his gaze. “I-It’s fine. Now let’s just sleep.”

Weariness makes your eyelids feel heavy at the mention of sleep. After an overwhelming day, you’d love nothing but to surrender yourself to a night of rest.

“Yeah, I think everyone’s had an exciting day,” Asra agrees, watching you as you stifle a small yawn.

Muriel wordlessly goes to the hearth to dim the flames, filling the cottage with its scarlet light. You shuffle over to your spot on the floor, while Asra sheds his outerwear to get comfortable for the night.

“Do you need anything?” you hear him ask as you also get comfortable. 

“No, I think I’ll be good for the night. Thank you so much, Asra. I...I don’t know how I can repay you.”

He reaches out and takes a hold of your hand. He opens his mouth to say something, but Muriel deliberately flops onto the bed, cutting off Asra’s words. Asra turns to look at him, but is only met with Muriel’s back.

“Alright, alright, we get it, Muriel. We’ll go to bed,” Asra giggles. He turns to you and smiles apologetically. “Looks like someone’s a bit jealous.”

You let out a brief chuckle, which makes Asra smile. “Good night,” he says, giving your hand one last squeeze.

“Good night, Asra. Sleep well.”

_Good night, friend!_ Faust pipes in. Asra smiles and gives her chin scritches. With one last glance, he goes over and slips into bed.

“Good night, Muriel,” Asra sighs, settling in.

“Good night, Muriel,” you echo.

“Go. To. Sleep.”

You and Asra stifle a laugh before slipping into slumber.


	13. Ousted: If MC is trans femme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which your relationship with your aunt takes a turn for the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can y'all tell I've been processing stuff via this fic

The dusty straws of the broom scrape your face, causing you to fall over. Coughing from the dust and debris, you try to clear your system, preparing yourself.

“I can’t believe this. No won’er your parents lef’ you behind with me. Unbelievable…”

You feel tears sting the scratches on your cheeks. You want to fight back, to say something...but you’re at a loss. You can only hear yourself stutter meaningless sounds before your aunt raises the broom again, a threat.

“Ah ah, not another word out of yer mouth. I don’t want you under this roof - you find your own place to sleep.”

Biting your lip, you manage to squeak, “W-what about work?” Surely you wouldn’t just be thrown onto the street, without a home or pay.

Your aunt merely tsks disapprovingly. “I ain’t about’ta waist all that training I did on ya. You come in for work every morning, same time as usual. But if yer ever late, I’m gonna reconsider, ya hear?!”

Tears then overflow. “O-ok…” you manage to say, holding back hiccups.

With one final grunt, your aunt turns and slams the back door close.

Laying in the dust, you clench your fist as you finally let out the sobs you were holding in. What was so wrong with what you had said? Was it wrong? Were you a mistake?

Through your tears, you hear your name. Already knowing who’s voice it was, you feel relief briefly wash over you, before terror and embarrassment do. 

Asra runs over, concern etched on his face. Dread just fills your stomach. Your aunt had all but went berserk after what you said - what would Asra say? Would he be disgusted? Would he laugh? You couldn’t bear it if he did.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, kneeling beside you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

Sniffling back the rest of your tears, you muster the energy to sit up right. You want to tell him how happy you are to see him, to ask him about his journey, his training with the Magician, but you can’t seem to find any words. Oberon crawls up to your shoulder and tries to groom away the blood and tears. Faust, meanwhile, peaks up through Asra’s scarf, worried.

When you couldn’t find the energy to speak, you hear Asra repeat gently, “What’s wrong?”

Feeling another wave of hot tears threatening to overflow, you bite the inside of your cheek. “My...my aunt just kicked me out…” you whisper, not meeting his eyes.

You hear Asra take in a sharp breath. “Why?” he asks. You hear anger mixed with his concern in his voice.

You pause for a moment to sniff back more tears. “I...I said something I shouldn’t have.”

In the pregnant pause between the two of you, you suddenly feel the rays of the setting sun and the dust of the street. You’re aware of passersby eyeing the two of you strangely, some almost tripping over the two of you.

As if sensing your thoughts, Asra wordlessly helps you get up and tenderly guides you over to his rug in the shade.

Grateful that he hadn’t pried too much, you take another shaky breath before speaking. “My...my aunt made some sort of comment on my clothes...and I told her that...that I don’t--I’m not a boy...”

You physically braced yourself, anticipating a similar horrified reaction from Asra as your aunt had. Fearful of his rejection, you hear yourself babbling half sentences of excuses and desperate explanations that you aren’t a girl or a boy. But to your surprise, there was no slap, no pain, no appalled yelling. Instead, you feel warm hands embrace you. Asra quiets you by gently saying your name.

“Hey, it’s ok...it’s ok...I’m the same.”

Your eyes widen. You had always felt alone in feeling like you were regarded as someone different than what you identified as. Never in your wildest dreams would you imagine that the boy on the street beside your shop would feel this way.

You gently break the hug to finally look at Asra properly. The amount of compassion and understanding in his face causes a faint pink blush to color your cheeks. 

“People regard me as a boy...but that’s not really how I feel. I don’t know the word for it, but the words ‘girl’ or ‘boy’ doesn’t really fit it…” 

You simply nod before giving Asra a gripping hug, more tears spilling onto his shoulder. So many emotions are flooding your being. You feel hurt, but comforted, elated and touches that Asra could share this with you, but the gnawing feeling of being an outsider still resides. But it subsides the smallest bit when your friend returns the hug. The two of you stay like this for some time; it could have been a few seconds or a few hours. But both of you savor the shared moment.

As time passes, your tears dwindle, and your breath evens. Releasing your clutch on Asra and look at him. You’re taken a bit off guard to see his eyes are also a bit misty eyed. Emotions tumble through you, and you wonder what you did to deserve such a person in your life.

Gradually coming back to reality, you realize that the street lights have turned on, and that the sun is leaving its last traces in the sky. Turning your head to the shop, fear takes hold of you. Would you have to sleep in the streets? You didn’t know much about Asra, but he’s told a couple of tales of his former life without a roof over his head. It wasn’t pleasant.

“Asra...what am I going to do? I...I don’t have anywhere to go,” you say, voice desolate.

He simply lifts a finger under your chin, as if silently saying to perk up. “You’re not sleeping out in the streets if that’s what you’re thinking. Come on,” he says, rising to pack his things. “You’re coming with me tonight. I’m sure Muriel won’t mind.”

Your mouth simply falls open, silently watching Asra pack his things. “A-are you sure?” you ask, stumbling to stand.

Turning to look at you, he chuckles. “I would never want my friend to experience what Muriel and I did in the streets of this city. Muriel isn’t fond of people, but I’m sure he can be empathetic to your situation. Now,” he says, securing his things onto his person. He offers his hand to hold on the journey to the forest. “Let’s get going before it gets too dark out.”

Still not believing your ears, you take his hand. As the two of you walk, Asra turns to you. “So, do you have preferred pronouns?”

  
~ ~ ~

You and Asra walk through the quieting streets of Vesuvia. Tears all dried up, you tell Asra your preferred pronouns, among other anecdotes of your confused feelings. Asra in turn tells you about his mental and spiritual journey to understanding his gender identity. You feel overwhelmed with gratitude and happiness that your closest friend not only accepts you, but also trusts you to tell all of this. You almost don’t notice that the entire time you’ve been walking, your hand has been gently wrapped in his.  
  
  
  


Eventually, the streets dwindle into dirt roads that fade into the entrance of the forest. The sun is setting beyond the horizon, leaving a pink glow in its wake. There’s just enough light for you to make out the steps in front of you.

“We’re almost there. Don’t worry, I won’t let you get lost,” Asra reassures, giving your hand a soft squeeze.

You nod, certain that he wouldn’t do that to you.

As you begin the walk into the forest, Asra’s careful to warn you of sneaky roots and hidden holes that you could trip on. You feel like it should have been getting darker, but the forest canopy is thick enough to obscure any light that’s left in the sky. But Asra seems to know his way well enough. 

Soon, you recognize a small protection charm that you had made for Asra some time ago.

“Is...that the charm I gave you?” you ask.

“Yep, we’re almost there now. I put these up around to help Muriel feel protected, and to keep our little abode hidden.”

Then you see another, and another, then a string of charms and herbs. They all lead to a lightly beaten path that ends with a small hut mashed into the base of a tree.

“Alright, we’re here. Let me go get Muriel. I wish you two could meet under better circumstances,” he sighs ruefully. He gives one light squeeze of your hand before letting it go to open the hut’s door.

“Muriel, could you come outside for a minute?” he calls. 

Suddenly, you feel nervous and timid. What if Muriel doesn’t like you? What if he won’t let you stay? This is your first time meeting him, surely strangers don’t just let people stay in their houses? But you two aren’t total strangers either…

As you fidget, the door opens wider to reveal a rather large figure. You can’t help your eyes going wide as your gaze rises to meet his. You could have sworn Asra said he’s the same age as the two of you!

But upon closer look, you see weary, but young, eyes meet yours briefly, before looking away. Asra kindly smiles and stands beside his friend, patting his arm.

“Muriel, this is the friend who I’ve told you about, the one who let me stay in their shop,” Asra says, before officially introducing the two of you. The whole time, Muriel is silent, expression ambiguous.

“It’s getting dark, and the shop isn’t really too safe for them anymore...I was thinking we could offer our place here,” Asra gently explains.

Muriel dwells on it for a minute, before he seems to make up his mind.

“No. Leave.”

Shock and fear crashes onto you like an icy cold bucket of water. Your eyes go wide as your chest constricts with panic.

Asra mirrors your shock and looks up at his friend. “Muriel--wha--wait, no, they need somewhere to stay. We can’t just let them on the streets, think about what that was like for us,” he insists.

Your panic twists your fear into guilt and shame. Of course it would be too much for Asra and Muriel to house you. Looking at the hut, it seems barely big enough for Muriel, let alone him and Asra. 

“A-Asra, it’s ok...I can-I can figure something out,” you stammer, breaking through him convincing his quiet friend.

“What? No, you can’t, it’s much too dark now,” Asra argues, hints of desperation in his eyes. He comes to your side and brings your hand into his, as if to keep you near him. “And I won’t let you go through what we did. Muriel, please, be reasonable.”

Hopelessness returning, you look up to meet Muriel’s gaze. “I-I won’t take up much room, I promise. I just...need somewhere to sleep…” you plead, while your thoughts anxiously wonder what you’re going to do if he says no again.

Muriel closes his eyes, brows furrowed. When he opens them, he answers. “Fine…” He then simply goes back to the door and opens it, silently letting us in.

Relief makes your legs weak; you’re glad Asra’s there to support you. You give a small smile before the two of you enter the hut.

There are minimal furnishings, just enough to get by. But the strong fire warms the entire place, and fills you with warmth. It feels like a home.

“Ah, the two of us usually share a bed, but I think there’s an extra blanket or cloak somewhere….” Asra mutters. He leaves your side, trying to get you accomodated. 

You look up at Muriel, who seems only mildly annoyed now. “Thank you, Muriel. I know this is all pretty sudden...but thank you.”

He subtly pouts his lips, whether in annoyance or discomfort you don’t know. “What happened to your old place…?” he asks under his breath. You aren’t sure if you’re meant to hear the question, but you decide to answer anyway.

“Uh, my...aunt just kicked me out...I guess she finally had enough of me. She and I...didn’t really get along.”

Muriel’s irritation lessens, his tense shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. “What happened?”

You’re about to answer when Asra comes back to you. “Does this look ok?” You turn your attention to the makeshift bed he made for you on the floor. Graciously smiling, you thank him. “It’s perfect.”

He seems relieved. “Thank you, Muriel.”

Cheeks turning red from the attention, the tall boy averts his gaze. “I-It’s fine. Now let’s just sleep.”

Weariness makes your eyelids feel heavy at the mention of sleep. After an overwhelming day, you’d love nothing but to surrender yourself to a night of rest.

“Yeah, I think everyone’s had an exciting day,” Asra agrees, watching you as you stifle a small yawn.

Muriel wordlessly goes to the hearth to dim the flames, filling the cottage with its scarlet light. You shuffle over to your spot on the floor, while Asra sheds his outerwear to get comfortable for the night.

“Do you need anything?” you hear him ask as you also get comfortable. 

“No, I think I’ll be good for the night. Thank you so much, Asra. I...I don’t know how I can repay you.”

He reaches out and takes a hold of your hand. He opens his mouth to say something, but Muriel deliberately flops onto the bed, cutting off Asra’s words. Asra turns to look at him, but is only met with Muriel’s back.

“Alright, alright, we get it, Muriel. We’ll go to bed,” Asra giggles. He turns to you and smiles apologetically. “Looks like someone’s a bit jealous.”

You let out a brief chuckle, which makes Asra smile. “Good night,” he says, giving your hand one last squeeze.

“Good night, Asra. Sleep well.”

_ Good night, friend! _ Faust pipes in. Asra smiles and gives her chin scritches. With one last glance, he goes over and slips into bed.

“Good night, Muriel,” Asra sighs, settling in.

“Good night, Muriel,” you echo.

“Go. To. Sleep.”

You and Asra stifle a laugh before slipping into slumber.


	14. Ousted: If MC is cis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which your relationship with your aunt takes a turn for the worst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can y'all tell I've been processing stuff via this fic

The dusty straws of the broom scrape your face, causing you to fall over. Coughing from the dust and debris, you try to clear your system, preparing yourself.

“I can’t believe this. No won’er your parents lef’ you behind with me. Unbelievable…”

You feel tears sting the scratches on your cheeks. You want to fight back, to say something...but you’re at a loss. You can only hear yourself stutter meaningless sounds before your aunt raises the broom again, a threat.

“Ah ah, not another word out of yer mouth. I don’t want you under this roof - you find your own place to sleep.”

Biting your lip, you manage to squeak, “W-what about work?” Surely you wouldn’t just be thrown onto the street, without a home or pay.

Your aunt merely tsks disapprovingly. “I ain’t about’ta waist all that training I did on ya. You come in for work every morning, same time as usual. But if yer ever late, I’m gonna reconsider, ya hear?!”

Tears then overflow. “O-ok…” you manage to say, holding back hiccups.

With one final grunt, your aunt turns and slams the back door close.

Laying in the dust, you clench your fist as you finally let out the sobs you were holding in. What was so wrong with what you had said? Was it wrong? Were you a mistake?

Through your tears, you hear your name. Already knowing who’s voice it was, you feel relief briefly wash over you, before terror and embarrassment do. 

Asra runs over, concern etched on his face. Dread just fills your stomach. Your aunt had all but went berserk after what you said - what would Asra say? Would he be disgusted? Would he laugh? You couldn’t bear it if he did.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, kneeling beside you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

Sniffling back the rest of your tears, you muster the energy to sit up right. You want to tell him how happy you are to see him, to ask him about his journey, his training with the Magician, but you can’t seem to find any words. Oberon crawls up to your shoulder and tries to groom away the blood and tears. Faust, meanwhile, peaks up through Asra’s scarf, worried.

When you couldn’t find the energy to speak, you hear Asra repeat gently, “What’s wrong?”

Feeling another wave of hot tears threatening to overflow, you bite the inside of your cheek. “My...my aunt just kicked me out…” you whisper, not meeting his eyes.

You hear Asra take in a sharp breath. “Why?” he asks. You hear anger mixed with his concern in his voice.

You pause for a moment to sniff back more tears. “I...I don’t really know.”

In the pregnant pause between the two of you, you suddenly feel the rays of the setting sun and the dust of the street. You’re aware of passersby eyeing the two of you strangely, some almost tripping over the two of you.

As if sensing your thoughts, Asra wordlessly helps you get up and tenderly guides you over to his rug in the shade.

Grateful that he hadn’t pried too much, you take another shaky breath before speaking. “My...my aunt made some comment about you again, and I...I had had enough at that point. So I yelled something back, and she...she really didn’t like it.”

You feel your shoulders slump, feeling so hopeless. First your parents had just dropped you off in this shop in Vesuvia, and now you couldn’t even go to that shop. What would happen if your parents came back? Would they ever come back? Subconsciously, you hear yourself mumbling your thoughts, but you have no energy to stop yourself. To your surprise, you feel warm hands embrace you. Asra quiets you by gently saying your name.

“Hey, it’s ok...it’s ok...you’re going to be ok. We can figure something out, I promise.”

Your eyes widen. He had said “we”, meaning the two of you. Never in your wildest dreams would you imagine that the boy on the street beside your shop would support you in this way.

You gently break the hug to finally look at Asra properly. The amount of compassion and understanding in his face causes a faint pink blush to color your cheeks. 

“I know my lifestyle is...unconventional. I don’t have parents, I’m not in school, or in a formal apprenticeship. But I’m so glad I met you. I’m so glad to have you in my life. And I’d never change the circumstances of how we met...maybe minus Faust almost taking a bite out of Oberon.”

You let out a small giggle, reminiscing. It’s true. If Asra hadn’t been where he was, then the two of you would have probably never met. You probably would have been stuck in the shop all by yourself, and with no other friends...no one to make any happy memories with. 

You simply smile before giving Asra a gripping hug, more tears spilling onto his shoulder. So many emotions are flooding your being. You feel hurt, but comforted, elated and touches that Asra could share this with you, but the gnawing feeling of being an outsider still resides. But it subsides the smallest bit when your friend returns the hug. The two of you stay like this for some time; it could have been a few seconds or a few hours. But both of you savor the shared moment.

As time passes, your tears dwindle, and your breath evens. Releasing your clutch on Asra, you take a look at him. You’re taken a bit off guard to see his eyes are also a bit misty eyed. Emotions tumble through you, and you wonder what you did to deserve such a person in your life.

Gradually coming back to reality, you realize that the street lights have turned on, and that the sun is leaving its last traces in the sky. Turning your head to the shop, fear takes hold of you. Would you have to sleep in the streets? You didn’t know much about Asra, but he’s told a couple of tales of his former life without a roof over his head. It wasn’t pleasant.

“Asra...what am I going to do? I...I don’t have anywhere to go,” you say, voice desolate.

He simply lifts a finger under your chin, as if silently saying to perk up. “You’re not sleeping out in the streets if that’s what you’re thinking. Come on,” he says, rising to pack his things. “You’re coming with me tonight. I’m sure Muriel won’t mind.”

Your mouth simply falls open, silently watching Asra pack his things. “A-are you sure?” you ask, stumbling to stand.

Turning to look at you, he chuckles. “I would never want my friend to experience what Muriel and I did in the streets of this city. Muriel isn’t fond of people, but I’m sure he can be empathetic to your situation. Now,” he says, securing his things onto his person. He offers his hand to hold on the journey to the forest. “Let’s get going before it gets too dark out.”

Still not believing your ears, you take his hand. As the two of you walk, Asra turns to you. “So, what else did I miss while I was gone?”

  
~ ~ ~

You and Asra walk through the quieting streets of Vesuvia. Tears all dried up, you tell Asra your preferred pronouns, among other anecdotes of your confused feelings. Asra in turn tells you about his mental and spiritual journey to understanding his gender identity. You feel overwhelmed with gratitude and happiness that your closest friend not only accepts you, but also trusts you to tell all of this. You almost don’t notice that the entire time you’ve been walking, your hand has been gently wrapped in his.

Eventually, the streets dwindle into dirt roads that fade into the entrance of the forest. The sun is setting beyond the horizon, leaving a pink glow in its wake. There’s just enough light for you to make out the steps in front of you.

“We’re almost there. Don’t worry, I won’t let you get lost,” Asra reassures, giving your hand a soft squeeze.

You nod, certain that he wouldn’t do that to you.

As you begin the walk into the forest, Asra’s careful to warn you of sneaky roots and hidden holes that you could trip on. You feel like it should have been getting darker, but the forest canopy is thick enough to obscure any light that’s left in the sky. But Asra seems to know his way well enough. 

Soon, you recognize a small protection charm that you had made for Asra some time ago.

“Is...that the charm I gave you?” you ask.

“Yep, we’re almost there now. I put these up around to help Muriel feel protected, and to keep our little abode hidden.”

Then you see another, and another, then a string of charms and herbs. They all lead to a lightly beaten path that ends with a small hut mashed into the base of a tree.

“Alright, we’re here. Let me go get Muriel. I wish you two could meet under better circumstances,” he sighs ruefully. He gives one light squeeze of your hand before letting it go to open the hut’s door.

“Muriel, could you come outside for a minute?” he calls. 

Suddenly, you feel nervous and timid. What if Muriel doesn’t like you? What if he won’t let you stay? This is your first time meeting him, surely strangers don’t just let people stay in their houses? But you two aren’t total strangers either…

As you fidget, the door opens wider to reveal a rather large figure. You can’t help your eyes going wide as your gaze rises to meet his. You could have sworn Asra said he’s the same age as the two of you!

But upon closer look, you see weary, but young, eyes meet yours briefly, before looking away. Asra kindly smiles and stands beside his friend, patting his arm.

“Muriel, this is the friend who I’ve told you about, the one who let me stay in their shop,” Asra says, before officially introducing the two of you. The whole time, Muriel is silent, expression ambiguous.

“It’s getting dark, and the shop isn’t really too safe for them anymore...I was thinking we could offer our place here,” Asra gently explains.

Muriel dwells on it for a minute, before he seems to make up his mind.

“No. Leave.”

Shock and fear crashes onto you like an icy cold bucket of water. Your eyes go wide as your chest constricts with panic.

Asra mirrors your shock and looks up at his friend. “Muriel--wha--wait, no, they need somewhere to stay. We can’t just let them on the streets, think about what that was like for us,” he insists.

Your panic twists your fear into guilt and shame. Of course it would be too much for Asra and Muriel to house you. Looking at the hut, it seems barely big enough for Muriel, let alone him and Asra. 

“A-Asra, it’s ok...I can-I can figure something out,” you stammer, breaking through him convincing his quiet friend.

“What? No, you can’t, it’s much too dark now,” Asra argues, hints of desperation in his eyes. He comes to your side and brings your hand into his, as if to keep you near him. “And I won’t let you go through what we did. Muriel, please, be reasonable.”

Hopelessness returning, you look up to meet Muriel’s gaze. “I-I won’t take up much room, I promise. I just...need somewhere to sleep…” you plead, while your thoughts anxiously wonder what you’re going to do if he says no again.

Muriel closes his eyes, brows furrowed. When he opens them, he answers. “Fine…” He then simply goes back to the door and opens it, silently letting us in.

Relief makes your legs weak; you’re glad Asra’s there to support you. You give a small smile before the two of you enter the hut.

There are minimal furnishings, just enough to get by. But the strong fire warms the entire place, and fills you with warmth. It feels like a home.

“Ah, the two of us usually share a bed, but I think there’s an extra blanket or cloak somewhere….” Asra mutters. He leaves your side, trying to get you accomodated. 

You look up at Muriel, who seems only mildly annoyed now. “Thank you, Muriel. I know this is all pretty sudden...but thank you.”

He subtly pouts his lips, whether in annoyance or discomfort you don’t know. “What happened to your old place…?” he asks under his breath. You aren’t sure if you’re meant to hear the question, but you decide to answer anyway.

“Uh, my...aunt just kicked me out...I guess she finally had enough of me. She and I...didn’t really get along.”

Muriel’s irritation lessens, his tense shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. “What happened?”

You’re about to answer when Asra comes back to you. “Does this look ok?” You turn your attention to the makeshift bed he made for you on the floor. Graciously smiling, you thank him. “It’s perfect.”

He seems relieved. “Thank you, Muriel.”

Cheeks turning red from the attention, the tall boy averts his gaze. “I-It’s fine. Now let’s just sleep.”

Weariness makes your eyelids feel heavy at the mention of sleep. After an overwhelming day, you’d love nothing but to surrender yourself to a night of rest.

“Yeah, I think everyone’s had an exciting day,” Asra agrees, watching you as you stifle a small yawn.

Muriel wordlessly goes to the hearth to dim the flames, filling the cottage with its scarlet light. You shuffle over to your spot on the floor, while Asra sheds his outerwear to get comfortable for the night.

“Do you need anything?” you hear him ask as you also get comfortable. 

“No, I think I’ll be good for the night. Thank you so much, Asra. I...I don’t know how I can repay you.”

He reaches out and takes a hold of your hand. He opens his mouth to say something, but Muriel deliberately flops onto the bed, cutting off Asra’s words. Asra turns to look at him, but is only met with Muriel’s back.

“Alright, alright, we get it, Muriel. We’ll go to bed,” Asra giggles. He turns to you and smiles apologetically. “Looks like someone’s a bit jealous.”

You let out a brief chuckle, which makes Asra smile. “Good night,” he says, giving your hand one last squeeze.

“Good night, Asra. Sleep well.”

_Good night, friend!_ Faust pipes in. Asra smiles and gives her chin scritches. With one last glance, he goes over and slips into bed.

“Good night, Muriel,” Asra sighs, settling in.

“Good night, Muriel,” you echo.

“Go. To. Sleep.”

You and Asra stifle a laugh before slipping into slumber.


	15. A Chirp and a Cast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you get (a little) closer to Muriel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's a lighter one :3

It’s now been a few weeks since your aunt had kicked you out. The autumn air hints at the oncoming winter months. Unfortunately, you had left the shop with only the clothes on your back, but Asra, and with some convincing, Muriel, had gathered a couple of spare garments to keep you warmer. As you slowly wake up, you’re grateful for the clothes they had given you.

It’s a rare morning in which your aunt allows herself to sleep in and have the shop closed. She had grumbled before all but sweeping you out with the day’s dust that she would be taking a day off for herself. You had felt a physical reaction at her words, your fatigued bones sighing with relief at the prospect of not having to get up at grueling hours to get to the shop.

You let out a huge yawn and stretch lazily, almost bumping Oberon. You giggle and apologize before glancing up at the window, you notice the sun’s rays peeking through the forest’s canopy. Broadening your gaze, you realize that both Asra and Muriel are absent from the hut.

After your first night here, you had thought that over time, Muriel would soften up to the idea of your temporary stay here. But after all this time, you haven’t really seen much progress in terms of your relationship with Asra’s friend. He seems to avoid interacting with you as much as possible, and when he must speak to you, it’s always in the fewest words possible.

What had you done? You’ve been stumped about this for a while now. Was it because you’re taking so much space in the hut? Or something else?

Your rumbling stomach stops your train of thought. Breakfast first, before any more negative energy.

Getting up, you go over to the hut’s small cabinet to get the half loaf of bread from yesterday, along with a handful of berries that Asra foraged. Oberon sniffs your hands eagerly.

You eat as you walk outside, wondering where Asra and Muriel went off to. You find Asra drawing water with magic from the nearby well, and Muriel feeding his chickens. The first night you had arrived, it had already been so dark that you hadn’t noticed the chickens near the hut. But on your first morning, you had been presently surprised. Muriel and Asra always had fresh eggs for breakfast.   
  


“Morning,” you greet the two of them. Asra happily returns the morning greeting, but Muriel merely hums while continuing to feed his chickens. You let out a sigh, bringing your hands to your hips. Well, you know what you’re going to do today: you’re finally going to get Muriel to like you. Or at least, start warming up to you. Baby steps.

Ambling over to the tall guy, you casually ask, “Hey, Muriel, need any help?”

Muriel flinches, startled by the direct question. He takes a moment before answering.

“No,” he mutters under his breath.

“Are you sure?” you ask again, kneeling down to pet one of his chickens. It clucks happily before continuing to peck the ground.

“Yes.”

You hum, continuing to interact with his chickens. He has quite a few, and they’re all lovely. 

“Do they have names?” you ask him after a silent minute passes.

He starts again, thinking that you had finished interrogating him. But he doesn’t say anything, and simply purses his lips into an annoyed pout.

Determined to keep having this conversation, you look up at him. “Is that a no?”

You notice his cheeks start to turn a bit pink. He mumbles something under his breath, but you couldn’t catch it.

You stand up and dust off your knees. “Sorry?”

“They do,” he mumbles again, just a fraction louder.

You smile. “What are they?”

Muriel’s cheeks get a shake pinker, but for what reason you’re not sure. While you’re sure he heard you, he doesn’t say anything. You turn your attention back to the chickens, willing to be patient. You’re not sure of Muriel’s circumstances, other than what Asra has told you, but from what you’ve heard, speaking and holding a conversation isn’t his strong suit.

Just as one hen curiously inspects Oberon by your shoes, you hear his gravelly voice. “That one’s Bridget.”

You smile and look up at Muriel, who pointedly is not returning your gaze. With a light giggle, you turn your head back to the chicken. “Hello, Bridget.” She happily clucks and gently nips at your fingers.

“What about that one?” you ask, pointing to another hen.

“Her name’s Gwyn.”

One by one, you ask Muriel each chicken’s name until you know them all. It’s endearing to know that Muriel had given each and every one of his chickens a unique name. It speaks to his personality as well. He may seem rather gruff, but between the three of you, he may have the softest heart. You’re glad he had been willing enough to open up to you, at least a little.

“Hey, Muriel, I think there might be a storm coming. The air seems pretty charged - did you want to try and cast your runes today?” Asra asks, strolling up to the two of us. 

You had seen Muriel’s runes only a couple of times. Asra had only given you a hasty explanation when you had asked. You would be curious to see someone actually cast and read runes.

Muriel glances at you before looking up towards the sliver of sky between the trees. He takes another moment before nodding.

Asra gives you an excited look. “We discovered this small mountain in the forest, and the magical energy there is crazy. Maybe you can bring some stuff to make potions with, or we can try to do a tarot reading.”

Eager for a second try, you decide to have another go at Asra’s deck. Asra runs inside to grab his cards, and Muriel gets his cloak. You look excitedly down at your familiar, who excitedly hops into your shirt.

The three of you set off on a path hidden from your eyes. But Muriel and Asra lead you with confidence. The sky above darkens with heavy clouds, and you can practically feel the energy in the air humming in your ears. 

“Will the chickens be ok from the rain?” you ask Muriel as he treks ahead. 

He turns his head to you before nodding wordlessly. 

“It shouldn’t rain too badly, but you never know. The season’s about to change, so things can be a bit unpredictable,” Asra says. You nod in response.

After climbing over tree roots and carefully avoiding prickly vines, you finally feel the ground start to slope upwards sharply. The trees thin out bit by bit until you see a clearing up ahead. You feel Oberon wriggle up and stick his nose out, taking in all the new scents. 

“Here it is. You have no idea how hard this was to find, we gotta tell you when we get back,” Asra giggles. 

“Yeah no kidding, this is pretty off the beaten path,” you agree. But you know by now that Asra has a curious spirit. It probably wouldn’t take him much to find a place like this.

Once you’re all in the clearing, Muriel drops the hood of his cloak and takes out his bag of runes. You watch, while trying to give him space.

Kneeling, the shaggy haired boy takes a long pause before picking out five runes and setting them in a specific order in the shape of a cross. You glance at the symbols, not too familiar with what they mean. But you spot a rune that looks like a hook and one that looks like a cross before Asra tugs at you.

“It’s best not to crowd too much. We can take a look at his runes back at the hut if you want,” he says under his breath.

Your cheeks heat up, a bit embarrassed. You guess it would be intimidating if someone peers over your shoulder as you draw cards, or make potions.

“Right,” you answer, before taking a seat across from Asra a bit away from Muriel. In the distance, you hear thunder booming, and feel the energy around you vibrate.

“Let’s see if you can speak to one of the Major Arcana, like I can with the Magician,” Asra suggests, picking out the twenty two cards. You nod as he does so. In your peripheral vision, you see Faust slither out from Asra’s clothes and get comfortable in the grass beside him. Oberon joins Faust and decides to use the friendly snake as a pillow.

Once he has them, he lays them out in a circle, silently inviting you to explore the cards once he’s done.

You take a deep breath, centering yourself and concentrating your energy…

There. You feel a card pull you towards it. Slowly, you pick it up before looking at it.

The Fool.

As you blink, your vision blurs, and the last thing you see is Asra also drawing a card.

~ ~ ~

You open your eyes to find yourself lying on a boulder in an open field. A gentle spring breeze tickles your cheeks, and sways the flowers around you.

Getting up on your elbows, you take a look around. You don’t recognize where you are. You should be in the mountain clearing with Asra and Muriel, but you aren’t. For some reason, that thought doesn’t worry you. 

Standing up, you look at the flowers and smile. It’s going to be winter soon in Vesuvia, so you won’t be seeing anything like this for a while. Best to enjoy it while you can.

Hopping down from the boulder, you breathe in the delightful air. You feel energized, renewed, but you have no idea why. Looking around, you pick a direction and decide to explore.

The grass seems to bounce along your pace as you walk, and the flowers breathe in sync with you. What is this place?

Just as you see something interesting, out the corner of your eye you see a flash of white darting in the grass. You whip around, and think you hear barking, before a strong gust of wind topples you backwards.

~ ~ ~

You slowly open your eyes, blinking several times to clear your blurry vision. You feel a familiar tongue licking your cheek. 

You reach over and scratch his head before rising. Funny, you don’t recall falling, or fainting...what happened?

You hear Asra say your name. “Are you alright?”

Getting up to a sitting position, you meet your friend’s eyes. He seems worried, but also curious.

“I...I think so,” you mutter, holding your head. “What happened?”

“You drew a card, and then a moment later, you fell backwards,” he explains.

_ Friend fell! _ You hear Faust say.

“I...fell?” you mutter, partially to Asra and partially to yourself. You then realize you’re still holding onto the card you drew. You decide to take a better look.

“I drew the Fool,” you murmur as you stare at it. In the distance, you hear Muriel’s runes clacking together.

There’s a moment of silence between you and Asra before he lets out an epiphanic “oh!” You look up, startled.

“Do you think you visited the Fool’s realm?” he asks, eyes wide.

You blink before examining the card again. An empty field...with a familiar boulder…

“I...I think I did,” you gasp, mouth agape. This had only been your second attempt at tarot cards...maybe the energy up here really is that strong.

Asra then looks over to Muriel, who rises and brushes off his legs. He comes over to us.

“All done?” Asra asks. Muriel simply nods. “Did you find any answers?”

Muriel gazes at his runes thoughtfully before speaking. “Some.”

Satisfied, Asra also rises, and offers you a hand. You find that your legs are a bit weak after your magical journey, and are thankful for his help.

He tugs you up, and your legs wobble at the sudden weight that they have to carry. You think you’re going to fall again, but you feel two warm arms around you.

“Careful, wouldn’t want you to fall again,” Asra murmurs as you lean against him in his arms.

You feel your cheeks burn, and you’re sure that you’re the same color as his scarf right now. But being in his arms isn’t the worst place to be in right now.

He helps steady you on your feet as Muriel puts up his hood. He looks up at the sky and listens to the thunder. “Gonna rain soon,” he says.

“Yeah, we should hurry back. I think a good lunch is deserved for all of us,” Asra decides, picking up Faust. Oberon quickly hops up on your shoulders. As the three of you walk down from the clearing, you all discuss what would be good for lunch. Thinking about it, not only are you noticeably tired, but you’re also pretty hungry. You suggest something hearty as your stomach grumbles.

“I wouldn’t mind. I’m sure you spent more energy than you intended today,” he says to you. 

As if to confirm his comment, your foot catches on a surprise root, and trip. You let out a yelp and grab the first thing your hands could reach, which happens to be Muriel’s unsuspecting arm.

Thankfully, he doesn’t allow you to fall, and allows you to use his hand to balance yourself. You apologize before thanking him, to which he grumbles a “no problem” with pink cheeks and a slight pout. Asra chuckles at the sight and leads the way.

You straighten yourself and walk alongside Muriel.

“How was your casting?” you ask, attempting at a conversation.

Muriel just hums with a satisfied tone. You take that as it went well.

“...Asra mentioned you ask questions while you cast runes. What did you ask them?”

For a while, he is silent, leaving the crunch of leaves under your feet and other sounds of the forest to hang in the air. Then he speaks.

“I asked a few.”

“Oh. What was one of them?”

Again, another pause.

“If I could trust you.”

His candid answer takes you off guard for a moment. While it isn’t really a secret of Muriel not opening up to you, something still stings when you hear that out loud.

“...What did the runes say?” you ask tentatively.

This time, you’re afraid Muriel isn’t going to answer you, the silence is so long. But after a minute passes, he answers.

“...Yes.”

You quietly let out a breath you didn’t know you’re holding. Something warm inside you makes you smile. You look up to give Muriel a smile, but again, he keeps his gaze forward.

  
  


After nearly tripping a few more times, you make it back to the hut unscathed. Muriel wanders off just to check on his chickens, while Asra heads inside with you to get started on lunch.

“Have a seat, I’ll make you some tea while I get started,” Asra says as you take off your coat.

“Are you sure? I can help,” you insist, not wanting him to do all the work. 

“It’s fine, Muriel can help later. Besides, wouldn’t want you to fall with something hot in your hands,” he smiles as he puts on water to boil.

You shrink into the chair you’re sitting in, blushing. You catch Oberon’s gaze. You swear he’s laughing, but that’s just your intuition speaking. Either way, you boop his nose teasingly.

Asra sets a tea cup for you before heading back to the stove. You thank him and blow on the mug before sipping. The herbal scent fills your nose, and the sip of tea warms your body. 

Muriel walks in with bunches of herbs and vegetables. Asra thanks him as he sets them down on the countertop before taking off his cloak. You continue to sip your tea to the sounds of a knife hitting the cutting board and the fire in the stove crackling warmly.


	16. Rain and Runes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Muriel teaches you, and you teach Muriel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> something nice and fuzzy. this chapter made me want to curl up with a nice cup of tea.

As you finish eating lunch, a thunderclap announces the downpour. The rain steadily drums against the hut, and Asra sighs. 

“Well, guess I won’t be making it to the market,” he mutters, looking out the window.

“I don’t think you’ll be missing too many customers anyway,” you chuckle.

You stare out the window as Muriel tidies up. As you watch him, a thought pops in your head.

“Hey Asra, do you think we can try taking a look at Muriel’s runes now? Since we’re stuck in here,” you ask.

Asra lights up. “Not a bad idea. Muriel?”

The boy in question looks up before averting his gaze. “Do I have to?”

Asra breathes out a chuckle. “Unless you want to just sit in silence.”

“That’s exactly what I want to do.”

There’s a prolonged pause between the three of you, and you take a minute to hold back a facepalm. Your eyes meet Asra’s and you two share a smile.

“Come on, Muriel, you should share what you know,” Asra pushes lightly. Muriel takes another long moment to pout and think before closing his eyes and muttering “fine” under his breath. You flash him a thankful smile.

He joins you and Asra at the table and takes out his rune set. 

“Did you make these, like how Asra made his deck?” you ask as he empties his bag of stones. 

Muriel nods, straightening the pieces.

“So I guess this is a little bit harder than my deck, since runes involve another alphabet,” Asra explains. “But you can still get the general gist of it.”

You nod, turning your attention back to the carved runes. You could feel the magical energy, not unlike from Asra’s deck. But these are also distinctly different.

“Rather than entities, runes encapsulate more abstract concepts. When casting, you usually focus your energy on a question you’re seeking answers from. Then you cast, and you can get answers from the rune,” Asra explains. You smile to yourself, predicting that this lesson will mostly be Asra talking and Muriel simply nodding in agreement.

“So they just answer your question?” you ask, in awe that the process is so straightforward.

“No...not exactly,” Asra says, glancing at Muriel. 

“You can interpret them in different ways,” Muriel murmurs, staring at the runes. 

“Nothing in magic is so simple,” Asra breathes, with a rueful smile. “Although it would be nice if it could be like that sometimes.

“I’ve cast a couple times before. But when I read the cards, I usually listen to what the arcana is saying. With runes, it’s...sort of like being shown the paths ahead of me. They can illustrate different paths, but it’s up to the caster to interpret them.”

You think back to the first time you read Asra’s cards. You had heard voices, or something like voices. But with the runes in front of you, it’s almost like you can see shadows swirling into barely recognizable forms.

“Should I try asking a question?” you ask, curious to see what the runes show you.

Muriel nods. “Try and keep your mind clear,” Asra recommends as you close your eyes.

There are so many things you could ask. Will you ever patch things up with your aunt? Will you be allowed to live in the shop again? Will you be able to see Nadia soon?

The shadows in your mind swirl restlessly, reacting to the numerous questions in your head. You take a breath and calm yourself, letting the questions flow out of your mind like water. The shadows relax and gently sway like smoke.

You center yourself and find your mind floating to two aspects that you want to know, molding into one question.

Your future, and Asra.

A shape in your mind flutters and directs you to a path you didn’t notice behind you. Everything is dark, but as you peer down the unknown dirt road, a torch is waiting for you on a tree. You hesitate before taking a hold of it. The fire’s light grows brighter and brighter the longer it’s in your hands, until everything around you is light.

You open your eyes to see yourself holding one rune in your hand. It looks like an arrow, but no stem.

“Kena,” you hear Muriel mutter.

You look up to him, wondering. Muriel closes his eyes before continuing.

“New light...clarity,” he murmurs.

You stare at the rune. A new light...a small smile dawns on your lips.

“Did you find an answer?” Asra asks softly.

You turn to him, suddenly aware of his eyes, the curvature of his nose, and the definition of his lips. Trying not to blush, you nod. “I think so.” He smiles.

Wordlessly letting the two of you know he’s done, Muriel gathers up his rune pieces and puts them back in his bag. You hand him the piece you’re holding.

“It’s a bit different, yeah?” Asra says, helping Muriel pick up his pieces.

“Yeah...you were right, it was like they were creating paths for me. It was different...”

The rain isn’t as torrential as when it first poured, but still continues to shower. Asra puts on more hot water for tea, and you decide to poke around to see what’s all in the cabinets.

You expect them to be bare, similar to the rest of the hut, but to your surprise, you see an abundance of herbs and magical elements. Cinnamon, mugwort, parsley...all in different stages of drying. A plump bundle of sage catches your eye.

“Wow this sage smells pretty potent,” you murmur under your breath.

“You like it? Muriel started a garden for some herbs behind the hut. I’m pretty impressed myself,” Asra says over your shoulder, giving praise to Muriel on his behalf.

“Yeah...I could make some great protection charms with these.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Muriel perk up at the mention of the charms, but doesn’t say anything. You straighten up and put on a sly smile.

“You know, I  _ can _ teach you how to make some. They’re one of the top selling charms at the shop,” you goad, smiling wider as Muriel internally debates on whether to say something or not.

Eventually you turn to look straight at him. “Do you want to learn?”

He turns pink from your eye contact. “...Yes,” he mutters, barely audible.

Asra catches your eye and you share a laugh. 

The three of you sit down, with a bundle of fresh sage in your hands. 

“I can teach you guys how to weave this into a seven pointed star. It may sound difficult, but it’s not really…”


	17. Snowy Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it snows in Vesuvia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hnnngh i just love these bois.

The delightfully crisp autumn gradually chills into a brisk winter. It doesn’t rain too often, which you’re thankful for, but when it does, the rain bites at you, making your small journey to the shop from Muriel’s hut very unenjoyable.

At the shop, you manage to not disrupt your aunt’s equilibrium too much. Some days are worse than others, but she never talks to you about why you’re not in the shop anymore, so that’s a win in your book. You had spoken to Asra earlier about avoiding setting up near the shop, and he wisely took the advice. While his absence certainly dims your spirit, at the end of the day he always manages to find you and the two of you walk back to the woods together.

One particular night, the sun had set quite early, and you had been worried about the walk back. 

“Asra, it’s pretty dark, are we going to be able to make it back alright?” you ask as you set foot into the forest.

“Don’t worry,” he simply says. Concentrating, it only takes seconds before a warm, bright light manifests in his palm. Your mouth drops open in awe.

“Wow, how did you do that?”

“You mean you don’t know?” 

You shake your head. You know how to make potions that give off light, but not just having light in the palm of your hand.

“Here, let me show you what I do.” Asra disperses his spell and comes around to hold your hand in his, palm up. His warm skin is welcoming against the frosty air.

“Try closing your eyes if that helps, and focus your energy into the palm of your hand. Like fireflies, gathering into your palm and lighting up all at once.”

You close your eyes and try to imagine fireflies, despite the breeze nipping at your ears. You feel your magical energy start to build, and you open your eyes, excited. But there’s only a feeble blink of light before it fizzles out.

“Aw, man,” you pout, as Asra giggles.

“It was a good try,” he says encouragingly. You teasingly elbow him, but still say thanks.

“I can lead the way--you can keep trying until we get back to the hut, if you want,” he offers, conjuring up his ball of light again.

You simply nod and try to bring back your focus into the palm of your hand. You barely notice Asra’s fond grasp on the hand you aren’t using as he leads the way.

About halfway back to the hut, you halt your steps, triumphant. “Hah!”

Asra turns around, looking worried, until he sees what you shouted about. “You got it?”

In your hands, the warm ball of light lazily floats, as if a hundred fireflies all came together. You smile proudly. “Yeah!”

Smiling, Asra takes your hand and the two of you walk side by side back to the hut. While it’s twice as light now, you can’t help but shiver as a particularly cold gust of wind hits your face.

“Don’t worry, we’re almost there,” Asra reassures, squeezing your hand.

Muriel is coming back from checking on the chickens when you both return to the hut. “I was starting to get worried,” he says as we walk up to him.

Asra simply smiles. “Aw, don’t worry, Muriel. I know well enough how to get back. Plus, we were able to see twice as well this time.” He looks to you and your ball of light.

Muriel sighs and closes his eyes. “Still…”

“I know. It’s okay,” Asra soothes, gently rubbing his friend’s arm. “Let’s get inside, it’s cold.”

“Yes, let’s,” you say, dispelling your ball of light to rub your hands together.

Muriel opens the door and strides to the hearth to get a bigger fire going. Asra goes to the kitchen to put together a quick dinner, and you’re greeted at the door by Oberon, who you insisted stay at the hut due to the cold.

Looking at the scene around you, you can’t help the warm feeling from blossoming in your heart. Was this what it was like to have a family?

~ ~ ~

It’s dark.

Something floats in the air. What is it? You try to get closer to investigate. But your legs can barely move. You will yourself to run, but no matter how fast or slow you go, you advance in the same, agonizing pace. 

Suddenly there’s a flash, and the floating object scatters. It’s almost beautiful. You reach out your hand to cautiously touch it, but recoil sharply as an ominous red slowly bleeds onto the white. Then, the world shakes.

You’re jostled awake by a hushed voice whispering your name, and a hand shaking your shoulder. 

“Get up, look outside!” the voice whispers, excited.

You lift up your head and blearily blink your eyes, bringing the world to focus. A dream? The hut is barely filled with cold, winter light. Refocusing your vision, you see that Asra had shaken you awake.

“Asra, wha--it’s so early, surely we don’t have to be up yet.”

“I know, but look!” He runs to the open door.

Confused, you get up and are about to ask what it is he’s so excited about, when your mouth drops.

The season’s first snow gently covers the ground. More snowflakes calmly lilt in the air, joining the thousands on the forest floor.

Asra giggles at your expression. “Isn’t this worth it?”

“Yeah…” you breathe out. You can see your breathe in the air.

Bursting out into a full laugh, Asra runs into the snow and frolicks in it, trying to eat the snowflakes from the sky. With a burst of energy, you laugh and join him. It isn’t long before you think of a devious idea. With a grin, you quickly kneel, gather up some snow, and throw it at him.

Asra lets out an “oof” on impact. You laugh triumphantly. As he brushes the snow out of his hair, he grins mischievously. “Oh, it’s on!” he cries before you two launch yourselves into a snow war.

Being especially adept in water magic, Asra has no problems manipulating the snow. He gathers up a snowball and hurls it at you with magic.

“Hey, so not fair!” you whine, feigning a pout. 

Asra simply shrugs. “You have to use all your skills.”

Your eyes light up as you get an idea. Asra, already forming another snowball, challenges you with his eyes. Shaking the snow off you, you grin, readying yourself.

You pretend to kneel and make a snowball, baiting him. He takes it, and with a quick spell, you use wind to break the snowball and send the snow flying back to him. With a half-laugh, half-yell, Asra falls back.

“Oh, so we’re finally getting clever, are we?” Asra smirks, concentrating his magic again.

You focus your magic as well, before a gravelly voice says, “Don’t you two have somewhere to be, right now?”

The two of you turn your attention to Muriel, who sleepily is standing in the doorway.

You glance up at the sky, and see that more sunlight is peeking through the canopy. Dispeling your magic, you frown and glance over at Asra, who also does the same. “I guess we should get going,” he says.

“Yeah. We can get breakfast on the way.”

He nods, and you both rush in to get your things.


	18. The Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a snowy day brings hearts together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so soft

Vesuvia in the snow is a sight to see. It isn’t a lot, but it’s enough for the roofs of buildings and the tarps of the marketplace to be covered in a fine layer of white. On the walk to the shop, you had asked Asra to teach you how he handled using snow instead of water so well. He had shown you, and the entire walk over, you had practiced making and tossing a snowball back and forth with Asra until you got it perfectly. 

For breakfast, you both had decided that a hot loaf of bread would be the best for a snowy day. The warmth from the fresh loaf soothes your cold fingertips, and brings you a sense of comfort. As you near the shop, you turn to Asra.

“Guess I’ll see you when we close up.”

“Yeah. It seems like a lot of couples are out for a romantic day outside. I might offer up some love readings, see how those go,” Asra muses, finishing his half of the bread. 

You each say your goodbyes before you head into the back of the shop.

The day passes rather uneventfully. You’re grateful for Oberon’s company, otherwise it would be a really dull day. Customers occasionally come in, asking for potions of warmth, or charms for a good harvest. One woman had asked for a love potion, which piqued your interest. But it is a complicated brew, and you only managed to see half of how your aunt makes it.

Soon, the sun starts to set, and the grey sky darkens. Your aunt closes the curtains and puts out the lantern. She mutters a quick “see you tomorrow morn’” before grabbing her shawl, no doubt about to head to the Rowdy Raven to warm up. You reply, but she slams the door shut as you do. With a sigh, you finish tidying up before closing up the shop.

Asra usually has good intuition for when you’re done for the day, but today he’s not waiting for you at the back of the shop. 

“Guess we’ll be on a little adventure,” you murmur to your familiar, who’s snuggled up in your jacket. He sniffs the air in anticipation.

You start by checking his usual route - the bakery, the tea shop, and other familiar stalls that have high foot traffic. But he’s nowhere to be found. It’s only when you approach the edges of the town square, you spot his fluffy hair.

He’s sitting under the lamp light with a young couple. With the setting sun, it’s a sort of romantic scene. On his carpet in front of him are five cards spread in a cross, and a warm lantern. You quietly walk towards him, careful of the snow crunching under your feet. Not wanting to disturb his reading, you slip into the shadow of a building, and hear the tail end of what he hears from the cards.

“...your future will hold satisfaction for each other, something that’s next level. This card is associated with happiness and satisfaction. The card is telling me that your future together will be like a dream come true.”

The lady turns to her partner beside her and smiles widely. Her partner’s eyes glow in the light, and she returns the smile. She then thanks Asra, paying him for his time, before rising and walking into the streets of Vesuvia. Your face flushes as you watch the two of them. Would you be as happy as they are in the future? Would you find someone to share your happiness with?

Asra contentedly collects his cards and gets up to gather his things.

“Sounds like a nice reading for them,” you say as you come up to Asra’s side.

He lets out a small “oh”, not expecting you. “You’ve found me.” He lets out a brief laugh. “Yes, the cards seem to predict a happy future for the two of them.”

You hum softly as Asra rolls up his rug. “Do you usually sugar coat love readings like that?” you ask as the two of you start the trek back to Muriel’s hut.

Asra chuckles, caught a bit off-guard. “What, you don’t believe that the cards could predict a happy future for some people?”

“I dunno, the few times I’ve listened to them, they’re usually pretty cryptic.”

“I guess it’s a little different for a love reading. I actually did at least three today; I usually don’t ask them to do so many in one day, but it’s been a while since I had.”

“Do you negotiate with the cards or something?” you half-tease. Asra playfully elbows you in return. “You know it’s not like that. The usual stuff I do for strangers are more general, so they don’t really need to focus on specific elements of people. But love readings, of course, are for love. Plus I have to communicate with a lot more cards than normal.”

You hum in understanding. A thought suddenly comes across your mind, causing your cheeks to flush a bit. “H-have you ever gotten a love reading?”

Asra blinks, a bit shocked by the question. “Uh, no, not really. I’ve actually only seen a handful of true card readers. The rest aren’t really communicating with the cards at all. Have you?”

You can’t help but flush deeper. “N-no. My aunt would have definitely said something if I traded coins for any sort of divination. You know…”

Asra chuckles half-heartedly. “Yeah, I remember...would you want to get one?”

The seemingly innocent question almost makes you stop in your tracks. “Wh-what?” you blurt, taken aback. “I-I mean, don’t you need to do it with two people?”

He giggles at your red cheeks. “You don’t necessarily need to do with with two people, you could do it just with another person in mind. Although, the reading is certainly more effective with the presence of both parties in question. Heh, we could get one together if you want.”

You swear steam is coming off your face right now. “T-together?”

Asra bursts out into a full on laugh. “I was just teasing! Oh man, the look on your face.”

You feel your lips purse into a pout. “Asra, I swear sometimes you--”

“I what?” he smiles smugly. You squint at him in mock anger before swiftly gathering your magic and creating a snowball.

“Hey, now, hold on--” Asra turns to run.

“Get back here, fox face!”

You fire your snowball, which satisfyingly hits him squarely in the back. The two of you run out of Vesuvia and into the dark forest, laughing and tossing up more snow.

Asra finally gives in once he almost trips on a tree root. He repeats your name to get your attention. “Alright, alright, I surrender!” he laughs, jokingly putting his arms up.

You release your magic and pose triumphantly with a confident smile. “And henceforth, I shall be known as the mighty magician who defeated Asra!”

Asra playfully scoffs. “You may have won the battle, but the war still rages on. It isn’t over!”

The two of you pause before both laughing. Despite the cold, you don’t really want to go back to the hut. You can’t remember the last time you had this much fun. For a moment, all of your worries are lifted from your tired shoulders.

Once the laughter dies down, Asra conjures up a bright ball of light. But fortunately, the light of the full moon shines strongly, allowing the two of you to see more of the forest than most nights.

“We should probably head back. Don’t want Muriel to worry,” you say, looking forward to a warm mug of tea.

“Good point--” But your friend is cut off with a mysterious rustling behind you.

You feel a chilling jolt of fear race down your spine, but you calm down once you see Asra’s face. He isn’t worried at all, but instead, fiercely curious at whatever made the noise behind you.

“Asra, what is it?” you whisper.

He blinks a few times, almost in disbelief, his eyes never leaving the spot over your shoulder. “I...I don’t know...Let’s find out!” he says in an excited hush.

“What? We don’t even know what it is!” you scold under your breath.

“But it’s not dangerous. I reached out with my magic, I can’t sense any sort of harm. I wonder what it could be. I haven’t encountered anything like it in this forest.”

You bite your lip, uncertain. With how excited Asra is, you can’t help but also be curious. But it’s getting dark, and the moonlight can only do so much.

Behind you, the creature rustles and dashes off. Asra grabs your hand and tugs. “Come on, let’s follow it!”

Your curiosity bubbling inside you finally bursts and you clutch his hand as you both run. The fallen leaves and thin layer of snow crunch under your feet as you twist and turn around trees. The swaying branches quiver, as if encouraging the two of you on your pursuit.

Sooner or later, the trees open to a clearing with a lake. The lake’s shore is lightly frosted, holding the water’s motion still, creating a huge mirror. The creature you two had followed is at the edge.

At first, you feel disappointed - it’s just a deer. But as you take a closer look, you come to realize it’s not just a deer. It has antlers, and a brown pelt like a deer. But the antlers are huge, and branching upwards. The pelt is almost shaggy, like a wolf’s. You look at the footprints it left in the snow, and it doesn’t look like any ordinary deer’s prints. 

Beside you, Asra gasps, pointing at the creature. You shoot your gaze back up, and your jaw drops. 

With a shake of its shaggy mane, it stretches and extends two iridescent wings. The moonlight shimmers brilliantly off its feathers. You’re in awe at the entire sight.

After a calm moment of watching the creature, it gently swings its head to where you and Asra are crouched. 

Your eyes widen in shock, but something seems to hold you in place. Even if you wanted to flee, you couldn’t.

As you gaze into the creature’s eyes, you feel a sense of warmth and life, despite the cold air turning your cheeks red. It feels as if you had just taken a nice, warm sip of tea by the fireplace.

Then, the creature blinks, breaking whatever trance you’re in. It turns around, tenses up, and leaps out of the clearing, its wings propelling it forward.

A quiet minute passes as you stare at the spot it had stood in. Then, you slowly turn to face Asra, whose mouth is open in shock, and eyes are still on the spot by the lake. Slowly, he turns his head to meet your eyes.

“What...what was that?” you whisper.

He simply shakes his head. “I...I don’t know…”

Tiny rustling from behind you makes you turn your head. A flash of white hits the moonlight before the ball of fur lands in your lap.

“Oberon!” you gasp. How did he get here?

He looks up at you, grateful to be off the cold ground, and also with worry.

“We should be getting back,” Asra murmurs, rising. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Muriel sent him. It’s getting pretty late.”

“Oh, yeah good idea,” you agree, tucking Oberon in your shirt. Droplets of melted snow gives you shivers and goosebumps, but you want him to be warm.

Asra waits until you take his hand to start the walk back. He conjures a ball of light, and you do the same. Clouds begin to obscure the white moon, making it a little difficult to get back. A couple times, the two of you have to backtrack, but sooner or later, the familiar glow of the hut’s fireplace makes you sigh with relief. Your toes are starting to get numb from being out too long.

A tall, angry figure opens the door. “Where were you guys?” Muriel asks, obviously irritated.

“We just went exploring,” Asra replies nonchalantly. He lets out a content sigh. “It’s good to be back, I was starting to freeze.”

“Asra, you were out too late--”

“Do you still have any tea, Muri?” Asra asks, cutting off his friend and wandering over to see if the kettle is still hot.

“Asra--”

“That’s ok if not, I can--”

“Asra!” Muriel’s shout quiets any other sound in the hut. You sneak a glance over at the tall boy, finding his eyes heavy with worry. Asra doesn’t say anything, but stares intensely at his friend.

“Asra...you were gone much too late. I...I was worried...what if Lucio had gotten you?” he mutters.

Lucio? As in the Count? What did he have to do with anything?

“Muriel.” Asra’s soft voice is layered with empathy and comfort. “That was a while ago, that won’t happen again.”

“But what if it does? I know you can get away, and that you know magic...but it might not be enough…”

You so desperately want to ask, but the moment isn’t right. 

Asra senses he won’t be able to placate his friend’s worries with words. He walks up to him and takes a giant hand in his. “I’m sorry that we worried you, Muri. We didn’t mean to.”

A tense moment passes before it slowly fades away. “What were you doing out there, anyway?” Muriel asks under his breath.

“We saw a deer with wings,” you pipe up, feeling a bit isolated from their conversation. Although the way Muriel shifts his glance at you, you begin to regret your statement.

“A deer…?” he repeats.

“Yeah, Muri, it was kinda crazy, I wish you were there with us! It was pretty huge, and had these really pretty wings. And it looked right at us, although I was pretty sure we were well hidden,” Asra runs on, excitement back in his voice.

Muriel turns his head back to Asra. “You...you saw the heart?”

Asra cocks his head. “The heart?”

Muriel nods, with an unreadable expression. “It’s what watches over the forest, and maintains balance. Usually most people never see it, and everyone thinks its a myth created by some lunatic…”

“Well, it’s definitely not a myth,” Asra says firmly, before a huge yawn stops him from continuing. Watching him yawn also makes you yawn.

“It’s late, we can talk more in the morning,” Muriel grunts, going over to check the fire before heading to bed.

You nod in agreement and shed some outer layers. Oberon happily grabs them to create a little nest for himself.

As you snuggle into bed, you hear mumbled “good nights” from Asra, and you find that you barely have the energy to reply before sleep takes you in its blissful arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're wondering why there's so much fluff...the answer will come soon...


	19. A Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the lonely urchin is coerced into a deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when i was writing this, i titled this chapter "lol fuck". that's still my feeling now.

It’s much too early for most people to be out. But that’s when Muriel likes it the most. No one to stare at him or bug him, just the few stragglers either from the night before, or weird people like him getting up before sunrise. 

A warm breeze breaks the cold air on his cheeks. He had promised Asra last night that he would take a turn going into the city to get some essentials, for both magic and survival. He really didn’t want to...but he really couldn’t remember when he last stepped into the city. Luckily, what he needs he can get from the market on the edges of Vesuvia.

Basket in hand, he saunders up to specific booths, wordlessly selecting produce and exchanging them for coins. A couple stalls try to make conversation with him, but an uninterested glance from him would keep them from talking.

Suddenly, the calm morning air is broken with hushed voices and stifled commotion from the few people in the streets. Muriel tries his best to ignore everyone and continue selecting what he came here for, but he realizes that the commotion isn’t going away from him, it’s coming towards him. Dread and annoyance starts to fill his stomach, like water leaking into a boat. What is it now?

Still trying his best to ignore his surroundings, he goes to the stall clerk to hand him the proper coins, but the clerk just stares at something behind him.

A familiar voice sends chills down his spine. “Looks like we run into each other again.”

He slowly turns around to meet Lucio’s cold, silver eyes. His golden arm gleams as the sun rises. “Let’s...have a chat.”

A firm hand on his shoulder, along with two palace guards, coerces him on a path with the Count. A wave of emotion threatens to overcome Muriel, but he pushes it down to keep a straight face.

He could vaguely hear the Count rambling on about new entertainment, and something about a stadium or a coliseum. But he tries his best to not say anything, or do anything, that would interrupt the Count, and instead focus on finding an escape.

Muriel thought that Lucio would be taking him to the palace, but taking a look at his surroundings, he realizes that this isn’t the way to the palace. The streets would have shed the shabby stalls and dilapidated dwellings for more sturdy abodes and actual markets. As one approaches the palace, they could feel the wealthy pouring into the streets, with the gentry as close to the royal building as possible, leaving the fringes of the city bleak. But this place only looked marginally better. Then, the Count stops in his tracks, and a cold hand forces Muriel to look properly in front of him.

“And this shall be your arena,” Lucio says grandly.

A looming archway stands before him, its dark walls uninviting. Inside, he saw the structure’s many rows, and a sandy cavity with dried bits of blood.

“When I inherited it as Count, I simply used it for executions...but the blood and justice got the crowds rolling. They loved it! So, I brilliantly thought to myself, why not make it a show? A match between the accused and me. But of course, I won’t be harming myself in that way, absolutely not. And that’s where you come in.”

The same cold hand brings his face to meet Lucio’s eyes. A wicked smile is spread on his lips, and a chilling glint in his eyes.

“You shall be fighting for me -- as the Scourge of the South!”

Muriel couldn’t help his eyes widening. Fight? No, this wasn’t what he wanted at all. Why would he do that? He’s never fought a day in his life.

He comes out of his stupor to object, but as he opens his mouth, Lucio tutts.

“Ah ah, now, before you go on about objecting, I’m afraid this isn’t really an offer.” His cold smile widens into a grin. “In two weeks time, the palace will be holding a public execution by way of a match in the Coliseum. You will arrive the night before.”

“...And if I don’t?” Muriel manages to mutter.

Lucio lets out a single laugh. “Then I’m afraid it’ll be your friend, Asra, who will be dragged into that ring. And trust me, you do not want that.”

Fear washes over him like frigid rain. No...not Asra.

He takes a moment and closes his eyes, trying to compartmentalize what he’s about to do.

“...Okay.”

~~~

Rough hands shove him into a dark holding cell, making him fall onto his knees. The smell of must and mold assaulted Muriel’s nose. He gets up wordlessly.

“We’ll come and get ya when you’re on,” one of the guards say with twisted delight. Muriel doesn’t say anything as the two guards leave, slamming the door on their way out.

He tries to do some deep breathing, to try and calm his shaking hands. But it only fills him with more anxiety, hearing his shaky breaths fill the dark cell. Every fiber in his body is screaming at him to rip open the doors and get the hell out. But he knows he can’t. His brain defies the wishes of his heart, because otherwise, Asra would suffer his consequences. And he can’t let that happen.

Up above him, the heavy pounding of feet and muffled cheering shake the Coliseum. After a rather cold winter, the citizens of Vesuvia are dying for a good show. 

Muriel suddenly realized he has no idea who he’s fighting. He starts to wonder, but then cuts his thoughts off. Best not to think about it, and just concentrate on getting out alive. For his sake. For Asra’s sake.

Much too soon for his liking, the doors to his cell open again, and the same rough hands grab him and lead him upward. The din of the excited crowd rattles his bones.

“...And fighting on behalf of the great Count Lucio is the Scourge of the South!” an aggressive voice announces. 

Muriel squints before feeling the hands shove him into the dusty ring. After he steadies himself, he looks to the other side and see a burly man, face gaunt from being held in prison no doubt.

The crowds shout for them to fight, to see which of them kills the other first. The fear that Muriel had tried to keep a close hold on comes loose. Kill? Lucio never mentioned that.

“Let the death match begin!”

Muriel spots a glimmer of desperation in the criminal’s eyes before he runs for him. Eyes widening, he sidesteps and rushes away, keeping his distance. From behind him, he hears the crowd goading him to kill the criminal, for justice.

But is this justice?

Muriel blocks a fist from punching his face. No time to dwell on any thought. At this point, all he wants is to get out alive. He can’t die here.

He shoves the fist away, and shoulders the criminal away, again putting some distance between the two of them. The man grunts before charging at him again with a yell. Fear freezes him in his spot, and before he knows it, he’s wrestling with the other man.

As he continues struggling against the criminal, he feels fear, anger, and helplessness take control over his movements. Why him? What did he do? Why is he here?

His grip slips, and in a flash, the man is on top of him, choking him. Muriel tries to cough, but his throat is tight in the other man’s grasp. He feels his breath slipping away…

In his peripheral vision, he spots the familiar golden arm. An amused Lucio brings one finger to his throat, making a slicing motion. Muriel understands. 

Adrenaline now coursing through his veins, he brings a knee and slams it against the man to break his grip. The man yelps, and loosens his hold. Muriel grabs one arm to wrench it off of him. Once the criminal is off, he gets up and backs away as quickly as possible.

With another yell, the man charges again as Muriel finds himself backing up towards a wall. He meets the man’s eyes one last time.

Then it’s over.

Ducking, Muriel had intended to throw the man, to give him some distance again, to clear his thoughts. But he had miscalculated how close he had gotten to the wall. So instead of hearing a body slam into the ground, he hears the sickening crunch of a skull breaking against a wall.

His stomach twists and clenches, threatening to heave up its contents. But his body just shuts down as he turns to look at the blood in the sand.

He wants to look away. But he can’t.

The crowd roars in approval. Lucio grins.

Rough hands grab him to lead him away.

~~~

“Asra, do you at least want to come in for tea?” you ask, worried. It’s now getting much too dark, but the magician is still pacing outside the hut.

Asra halts his pace and looks like he’s finally going to give in and come inside, until you both hear rustling in the forest.

A tall, hulking figure stumbles out of the trees and into the small clearing in front of the hut.

“Muriel! Where have you been--” But Asra is cut off by his friend’s gripping hug. Your heart clenches when you think you hear a choked cry coming out of Muriel. You hesitate, but then decide to rush to his side.

“Muriel?” Asra murmurs, confused. He brings his arms up to comfort his friend.

Muriel suddenly releases the hug as quickly as he had initiated it. He looks up at Asra, then you. You’ve never seen so much fear and anguish in a person’s eyes. It scares you.

He looks like he wants to say something, but Muriel doesn’t have a chance before he keels over and vomits. Wincing, you look away and at Asra instead. 

“...Muriel? What...what happened?” Asra whispers, afraid.

Still on his knees, he coughs up the remaining bile in his mouth. Asra crouches down to level with him, seemingly undisturbed by Muriel’s vomit.

The silence and stillness is deafening on your ears as you wait to see what happens. For a while, nothing happens. But then, Muriel slowly turns his head to look up at Asra again. Then his eyes begin to water, and then great tears begin to fall down his cheek. 

“...Asra…” Muriel whispers so quietly that you almost miss it.

“Yes, Muriel, what is it?” Asra answers gently, as if anything above a whisper is going to break his friend.

Muriel is silent before repeating Asra’s name. With each repetition, more tears fall. The sight breaks your heart. Despite being the biggest out of the three of you, Muriel looks so small, so helpless.

Not bearing it anymore, Asra brings his friend into another hug. Muriel holds him desperately, as if he would disappear if he didn’t. You can’t help but feel tears well up in your eyes. 

“Asra, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry...Asra…” Muriel whispers in distress.

What happened?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY.


	20. An Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you and Asra oversee Muriel, and receive an invitation

It’s been a couple days since Muriel came back late one night, shaken to his core. To see someone who’s usually so stoic to be so fraught with terror had been distressing to say the least. Asra has been worrying over Muriel almost non-stop since that night. You’ve suggested quietly that maybe Muriel just needs space, and Asra would agree, only to be back by his side in no less than an hour’s time. He naturally wants to help ease Muriel’s troubles, but something is telling you that neither you nor Asra could do anything.

This morning is the first morning that Muriel accepts any food from us without throwing it up. Asra makes him a couple of eggs and warm tea with milk from the market. He also heats up some of the loaf that we brought home last night from the baker. Muriel manages to eat half the bread and one of the eggs, sipping on the tea here and there. At first, he has the same expression as the last few times he’s tried to eat -- one that means he’s going to be throwing up soon. But he powers through, realizing that he needs food, and keeps it down. Once Muriel had finished his breakfast, Asra is noticeably more relaxed. 

Your own worry for Muriel’s wellness unfortunately doesn’t excuse you from clocking into the shop every morning. The day after Muriel’s late return, you had stumbled in late, and almost got a beating for it, if it weren’t for the customers your aunt had been tending to. She did berate you half to death. 

Asra hadn’t come with you into Vesuvia, and instead opted to stay at the hut with his friend. Oberon also decided to stay a couple times, sensing that the presence of animals has been giving Muriel a lot of comfort.

Eventually, Muriel starts to eat more on his own, tends to his chickens, and no longer needs Asra by him at every step. The air in the hut is tangibly more at ease when you return to the hut. Some things still send Muriel into a thousand-yard stare, but a soft hand from Asra, or a quiet word from you brings him back. 

One day, your aunt puts you in charge of the shop while she steps out to run some errands. As you quietly make some charms for sale behind the counter, a palace carriage rolls into view, and a figure exits and knocks on the door.

Curious, you open the door, and find yourself face to face with a palace servant. They ask for your name, and say that they have a message for you.

“For me?” you ask, double checking to make sure you heard right.

“Yes. The Count Lucio and Countess Nadia are hosting a spring’s festivities in a couple of weeks to welcome the warm weather. Countess Nadia has requested your and the magician Asra’s presence. She, er, mentioned that I may have trouble finding the magician, so she said that if I had relayed the word to you, you could pass it onto him?” the servant says.

You can’t help but gape at them. A festival? Nadia requesting you and Asra?

“Shall I...say that you will be there?” the servant inquires hesitantly, obviously a bit uncomfortable with your mouth open in front of them.

“Oh! Yes, yes of course,” you reply, shaking your head to get yourself together. “Yes, Asra and I will be there.”

“Fantastic! If you could come by to the palace the morning of, Nadia says she will be happy to host you all day. There should be an announcement later today about the details on the festivities. Have a lovely day,” the servant says before bowing and going back to the palace carriage.

Closing the door, you smile and a laugh escapes your lips. You’re going to the palace!

~ ~ ~

“Nadia sent a servant, really?” Asra asks, a bite of his dinner still in his mouth.

You scrunch your face playfully as he subjects you to his mouthful of food. Nudging him, you giggle. “Chew and swallow first! Yes, a servant came up to my shop door. Luckily my aunt was out running errands.”

Taking your advice, Asra swallows his food. “Yeah, what are you gonna do about her? It’s not like it’s easy for you to take a whole day off.”

You bite your lip in frustration. Now that the weather is warming up, business would probably be growing if anything. 

“I could try to fake a cold?” you ask, suggesting the first thing that pops in your mind.

Asra thoughtfully hums. “Maybe…”

The rest of the walk back is filled with scheming on how to get away for a day.

When you and Asra arrive at the hut, Faust and Oberon are there to greet you. You giggle as your familiar’s fur tickles your nose when he jumps into your arms.

“ _ Friends back! _ ” Faust exclaims, flicking her tongue happily from Asra’s shoulder.

You giggle again as Asra gives her gentle scritches. “How’s Muri been?”

“ _ Ok _ ,” she says, swinging her head towards the fireplace, where Muriel is sitting.

Faust slides onto your shoulder as Asra goes in to check on his friend.

“Have you and Oberon been behaving?” you slyly ask the snake.

“ _ Having fun! _ ” Faust says, sending a wave of impish glee.

“Oh, you guys have been doing something, alright. Don’t be giving Muriel a hard time now,” you tease, heading in.

“Who’s giving Muriel a hard time?” Asra asks with a playful smile as you close the door.

“Our small friends might be having a bit too fun out here,” you comment, fondly petting Oberon.

Asra laughs as he gets up to retrieve Faust. He’s about to make another remark, when you notice a full basket by the door.

“Muriel...did you go into town today?” you ask in disbelief. He rarely leaves the hut on a good day.

“...yes,” he mutters after a pause. 

You look back to the basket, both confused but pleasantly surprised. Usually if it was Muriel’s turn to go into the market, Asra would have to really coax him to go.

“Wow, Muri, thank you…” Asra murmurs, also in disbelief. 

Muriel just blinks and turns his attention back to the comfortable fire. Asra goes to inspect what Muriel had found, but you keep your gaze on the long strands of dark hair that obscure Muriel’s eyes. The three of you have enough...why did Muriel go into the market?

Before you could go down that line of thought, Asra thinks out loud on what he could make for a light supper, and a grumble from your stomach. He teasingly snickers and you go over to noogie his head. 

~~~

Over supper, Asra tells Muriel about the spring festivities, and Nadia’s invitation. Muriel had almost choked on his food when we mentioned we knew Nadia.

“When did you meet the Countess?” he asks after he recovered from his near accident.

“I thought we told you, we happened to run into her at the market one day,” Asra says. You agree, remembering Muriel’s initial disbelief before finally believing the two of you. 

“Hm...you might be right.”

“I wonder if there’s going to be something special in the palace,” you wonder, imagining what good food and fun dances there could be.

“I’m sure Nadia won’t disappoint,” Asra reassures, smiling dreamily.

“I still gotta figure out a way to get out of working that day...you think I can’t just fake a cold?”

“Maybe? I dunno, I feel like your aunt is pretty good at sniffing out a lie.”

“Yeah…” you mutter as you try to think of more plausible lies.

There’s comfortable silence as the dying fire casts a warm glow in the hut. After a while, Muriel rises and gathers our plates. “It’s getting late, should sleep.”

You agree and get up to stretch. It hadn’t felt like an exceptionally long day, but for some reason, you’re beat. You go to wash up as Asra puts away the rest of the things Muriel brought from the market. Any worries you previously had for Muriel is forgotten when you finally get to shut your eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not gonna lie, y'all's comments really brighten my day. I try to respond to everyone. it's been tough for me for the past week, but seeing y'all enjoy this makes me smile :) thank you for reading!!


	21. A Soak and a Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you and Asra get even closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooo fluffy thing look over here

It’s the morning of the spring festivities, and you wake up earlier than usual, excited for the day. Yesterday, you had done your best to fake a stomach ache, claiming you had eaten some bad food. It hadn’t been so bizarre -- earlier in the month, another shop had to have limited hours because one of the shopkeeps ate some bad meat.

“Did ya go get lunch at that stall on the corner of the street?” your aunt had asked gruffly.

You nod. She lets out a “pah” and dismissively waves her hand. “Thought I told ya to stay away from tha’ place - s’the same place that made Verric sick!”

“I’m sorry, I thought it was another one,” you say, fumbling an excuse.

Your aunt scoffs at your words. “Fine. Take some time off and get better. Can’t have ya throwin’ up on me floors.”

You do your best to let out a shaky “thank you”, even faking a heave, before leaving for the day. In case she’s looking out the window, you keep up the act and walk weakly into the street. Once you round the corner, you give it up and smile at Oberon. 

“I can’t believe we pulled that off!” you whisper excitedly. He licks your nose, pleased.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Asra’s white hair at the end of the alley. Running up to him, you give him a big smile and a thumbs up. “I did it! Tomorrow’s all set.”

Asra fist pumps the air. “Alright!” The walk home for the both of you is full of excited daydreaming of what tomorrow could hold.

And now, tomorrow had arrived.

You stretch, letting out a huge yawn. A pleasant dream last night had decided to come to you, but now you can’t remember what it was about. But it still had filled your chest with a satisfied glow. Glancing over at the bed, you cover your mouth, trying to hide a giggle. Asra’s lanky form is even more obvious beside Muriel’s hulking one. 

Oberon’s head twitches as you give him a fond pet. You head outside to wash your face and freshen up, seeing if the chickens need any attention.

“You’re up early,” an airy voice murmurs behind you.

You turn and smile at Asra’s bedhead, curly flyaways abound. “I could say the same for you.”

He smirks while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “What can I say? Guess I’m excited.”

You smile and kneel down to pet a chicken who had come pecking at your feet. Summoning over some seeds, you offer some to the bird. Asra grabs the bag and sprinkles the ground. With the distant songbirds twittering and the rhythmic clucking of the chickens, the two of you share a nice moment as the sun begins to rise for the day.

“Well,” Asra says, breaking the silence, “I’m going to brush up. I’m sure Nadia isn’t going to be mad if we’re a little early.”

“Yeah, alright. Let’s head out soon!”

You hurry and get ready, putting on an extra layer in case the morning chill decides to stick around. Once Asra’s set, you two take off to the palace. Along the way, the two of you share gossip about the palace that you’ve heard.

“I heard that when they eat, they have specific beds to lie down on,” Asra muses, repeating what he heard in passing around the market.

“My aunt says they have their own baths,” you share. 

“Wow, that’d be something, if we get to see those.”

“Yeah, because we all know you need a bath,” you snicker jokingly.

Asra gapes, feigning offense. “Well, when’s the last time you’ve cared for your hair?” he jabs back, recovering quickly.

This time, it’s your turn to be pseudo offended. “Why I never…”

Asra simply smiles with twinkling eyes. The rest of the way is filled with similar teasing and friendly bickering.

The two of you eventually arrive at the palace gates, and two guards halt your approach.

“The two of you seem to be young to have an audience in the palace. Run along now,” a gruff guard commands from behind his mustache.

“We actually were requested to be here by Countess Nadia,” you explain.

The other guard lets out a loud guffaw. “The Countess, as if. We’re going to be having a fair share of scammers and charlatans today with the festivities, we don’t need anymore. Go on, now, shoo.”

“It’s true--” but Asra’s cut off.

“Oh!” a figure from behind the gate comes running up. “Oh do let them in. Countess Nadia has been expecting them.”

You notice the two guards exchange surprised glances. But they’re still hesitant.

“I’m afraid--” 

“Oh, none of that now, these two are the Countess’ honored guests. Open this gate at once!” the servant insists.

Not wanting to be on Nadia’s bad side, the two guards quickly mutter their agreement before opening the gates. You mumble a quick word of thanks, but Asra flashes them a foxy grin on the way in.

“You two came right on time, the Countess has just finished breakfast,” the servant explains as they lead the way into the palace. You and Asra can’t help but gawk at the sheer display of finery that’s before your eyes. 

Towering columns upheld marble ceilings. Floral wreaths seem to be sprinkled throughout the entire hallway, leaving a pleasant smell. Soft pinks and brilliant golds dance in the light from the many windows. The graceful lanterns hang idly from the ceiling. The palace looks just as beautiful inside as it does outside.

You nearly bump into Asra a couple times as you try to take in as much as possible. The servant takes you two down multiple hallways and up a set of stairs before a familiar voice calls out to you.

“You’ve arrived, I’m glad! Thank you for bringing them here, Neta,” Nadia says from her doorway, thanking the servant. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble getting here?”

“The guards at the entrance were entertaining, but other than that, not at all,” Asra says with a smile.

Nadia hums while staring at the two of us. “Why don’t you two freshen up in my bath? I think that would be a wonderful way to get the day started. We can arrange your clothing for the festivities while you two do so.”

You meet Asra’s eyes, surprised. So at least one of the rumors is true.

“Sounds like a grand idea, Countess. Come along you two, the Countess’ bath is this way,” the servant, Neta, says and ushers you two into Nadia’s chambers.

You feel like you’re intruding, but Neta hurriedly pushes you and Asra into a steaming room. A spacious bath holds warm water and rose petals.

“The soaps and shampoos are over here on this cabinet. If you need extra bath salts, there here. Now, if you two could kindly shed your garments, we can bring you new ones.”

Your cheeks suddenly turn hot, and it’s not because of the water. Neta’s frank statement made you realize something that for some reason hadn’t hit your mind until now - you will be bathing with Asra. In the same bath. Without clothes.

Asra also seems to have hesitated because Neta once again presses you two to strip. Having a bit of a deja vu moment from your first night together with Asra, you determinedly avert your gaze as you take off your clothes for the bath. You fold it neatly in a pile before gently easing your way into the bath.

Still staring at your feet in the water, Neta says a quick word before leaving. But you couldn’t process what they had said with all the blood pounding in your ears. This is such a step up from the sleepovers.

You hear a satisfied “ahhhh” as Asra comfortably slides into the bath. He grabs a fancy bottle that Neta pointed out to be shampoo and lathers it into his hair. He calls your name to beckon you over.

“I’ll massage it into your hair too, if you want.”

You pray that Asra thinks the redness in your cheeks is due to the heat of the water. “Sure,” you manage to mumble out, wading over to his end.

He puts some more shampoo into his hands before massaging it into your hair. You try not to think about the fact that you’re sharing a bath with Asra, and instead focus on his fingertips soothingly kneading your scalp. You can’t help but loosen up and let out a small sigh of content.

“Feel good?” Asra asks, a smile in his voice.

“Yeah. Smells nice too.”

He hums in agreement. Lowering his hands, he stares at the other bottles. “I wonder what these are…”

Before you can say anything, he reaches out and scoops up three or four bottles, all different shapes and colors. He uncorks a fat blue one and takes a whiff.

“Oh! It smells so nice...kind of herby. Here,” he offers. You take a sniff, and can immediately imagine a scent that’s just a tad bitter. 

Asra uncorks the other three, and goes to sniff another one, but knocks over the rest into the water in the process. 

“Oops?” he murmurs with a wince. You jump forward and set the bottles upright, but enough is spilled into the bath. 

Fragrant bubbles start to form from the slow moving water. Your eyes light up, and locks eyes with Asra. Using magic, the two of you swirl the water until an uncontrollable amount of bubbles pour out of the bath. Asra laughs as he generates more and more bubbles, and you can’t help but laugh too. You hear him call your name through the foamy mountains.

“Where’d you go?” he calls between giggles. You wait for the right moment, then pounce on him, laughing as bubbles spray everywhere. Soon both of you are trying to smear bubbles on each other’s faces.

The door opens and an astonished “oh!” follows. Emerging from the bubbly mess, you spot Neta in shock. They call your and Asra’s names.

“Oh dear, please come along! The Countess is awaiting your presence, and we have clothes for you. Oh dear, oh dear…”

Asra wades his way out of the bubbles and up out the water. Neta hands the two of you a towel to dry off, then leads you back to Nadia’s chambers. On her bed are two gorgeous outfits. Neta gives one to Asra and the other to you. Spotting a folding screen, you duck behind it and change into your outfit. When you’re done, you walk out, feeling a bit shy to be adorned in such fineries. Delicate greens and golds accent the beautiful cream color. The fabric feels foreign on your skin, but has a lovely texture. 

You spot Asra in his outfit and your mouth drops. It’s like he’s a whole new person. His neckline is decorated in soft lilac petals, with golden leaves. A lilac sash around his waist complements his eyes, and the flowing skirt is peppered with golden specks. 

“You...look amazing,” you say under your breath.

Meeting his eyes, you notice that he is also in awe at your clothes. “So...so do you.” A bit of pink colors his cheeks and ears.

But once Neta realizes we are both dressed, they waste no time in ushering us to finally go see Nadia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly i felt just a tad bit naughty writing this :3c


	22. An Idle Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you, Asra, and Nadia get to enjoy yourselves.

They take you down another hallway and to a veranda. There, Nadia is sitting, casually sipping tea. Neta announces our arrival to Nadia, and she rises.

“Thank you, Neta. Did the two of you tidy up alright?” Nadia asks.

“Yes, your bath was so lovely. Thank you,” Asra pipes up.

“We may or may not have, um, used a number of soaps…” you mutter. Asra elbows you discretely, clearly not expecting you to have mentioned that faux pas.

But Nadia simply giggles. “Oh did you now? Usually the rare number of guests who have the privilege of using my bath don’t even do so. What for, I wonder?”

You meet Asra’s glance out of the corner of your eyes. “Uhhhh…”

Nadia lets out another chuckle. “No matter, I’m sure the servants will be informing me sooner or later. Let’s begin with a tour of the palace? I’m assuming it’s the first time here for both of you.”

You nod along with Asra, and soon you’re on your way back into the staggering palace.

Acting as the diligent host, Nadia points out different rooms and wings with a delicate hand. After a few turns, she points out the stairs to Count Lucio’s wing. Her lips twitch in disgust.

“My...husband...is having quite an awful way to start off the festivities. He’s holding a gladiator’s tournament in the Coliseum. In Prakra, we never had such violent activities. Here, he uses them for sport and for justice. Much to his dismay, I did not want to attend. So, I thought about inviting two kind faces to pass the time with instead.” She smiles to the two of you as you all pass Lucio’s wing. You smile back, touched that Nadia had such a positive impression of the two of you from the day you and Asra spent with her.

“Where is he getting the gladiators?” Asra asks.

Nadia waves a hand dismissively. “Here and there. He claims to have found thugs and thieves from the street, and said he would give a handsome reward to the winner of the battles.” She takes a moment to calm herself. “I find it abhorrent that he’s doing this. But he is the Count...so he has as much command of the city as I.”

“So you couldn’t stop it?” he continues with a frown.

“No...plus, it seems to give the citizens a morbid sense of joy, seeing two men dueling.”

Asra frowns, but leaves it at that.

Not wanting to leave the negative energy in the air, Nadia brings both of you to a parlor, and requests tea and snacks. 

After all the bath and stunning outfits, you couldn’t imagine the palace being any more regal, but Nadia again proves you wrong. A servant brings in tea and snacks, and you can’t help but gawk. Small cakes and tarts, along with elegantly cut finger sandwiches are delicately placed on a tiered platter. The pot of tea is warm and smells inviting. This definitely is multiple grades up from the tea at Muriel’s hut.

The servant pours the tea, and Asra gasps. “Lapsang souchong tea! This is my favorite!”

“Oh is it? They pair lovely with this shortbread,” Nadia comments after taking a sip. She points out a dense, stout shortbread. Asra gladly takes a bite.

“So, Asra, how are things with your readings? Have you had any interesting clients?” Nadia asks after you and Asra settle down over the beautiful pastries.

“Hm, I did have more than the usual number of love readings during the snowfall,” Asra muses, thinking. “Oh, I do remember one old man asking a reading for his cat. The cards were quite amused with that one.”

“Didn’t the Magician have something witty to say about that one?” you ask, thinking you remembered something about that reading.

“Don’t they usually?” Asra sighs with a smile.

“Is the Magician normally rather cryptic?” Nadia asks.

“They usually have more questions than answers. You never really want to ask him if you’re looking for concrete answers. The High Priestess is a bit better...but still can be a little roundabout.”

“The Hermit isn’t so bad,” you chime in.

“Yeah, maybe when it wants to talk,” Asra counters with some cheerful snark.

Eventually the finger foods dwindle to a few crumbs, between talking about the cards, the enjoyable snowfall, and weather in Prakra. You find yourself hoping one day you can travel and see Nadia’s homeland, maybe with everyone.

Nadia continues the informal tour around the palace and eventually leads you outside to the gardens that the veranda overlooks. It’s beautiful, with immaculately trimmed hedges and gorgeous flowers in bloom for the festival. Tall, strong trees loosely encircle a fountain with a sea goat as the centerpiece.

“Wow, this is all amazing,” you gasp in wonder. The luxuries nobility can afford will never cease to baffle you.

“Yes, my husband really has outdone himself. I will try to avoid all the rather tawdry statues he had erected for this festival,” Nadia says, half apologetic and half in mild disgust.

Almost as if on cue, a brilliant gold statue of the Count, wreathed in flowers, comes into view. Looking around, you spot another, and another. How did you miss these before?

Asra giggles. “It’s almost like he’s compensating for something,” he laughs, staring at one in front of him.

You and Nadia share a look before joining Asra in laughing. It does seem like that.

The three of you amble around, enjoying the fresh fragrances of the flora. Once you arrive at the fountain, Asra decides to show off a little to Nadia using the water and his magic. 

“Show off,” you mutter, fondly elbowing him in his ribs.

Your walk around the palace gardens ends at a gazebo, comfortably in the shade of swaying weeping willows. The three of you sit, and Nadia waves over a servant to bring lunch. Only a few minutes pass before a small parade of servants bring glittering platters of fresh vegetables, meats, cheeses, and fresh bread. You had thought the snacks from tea time had filled you up, but looking at the assortment in front of you, your stomach growls.

Nadia thanks the cavalcade before inviting you to tuck in. “They kept it light so we could still enjoy the fare during the festival.”

You and Asra glance at each other, raising an eyebrow as if to ask “ _ this _ is light?” But with a shrug, the three of you dig in.

After amusing Nadia with more compliments on the food, you resume chatting.

“Nadia, do you have any siblings?” Asra asks after swallowing a mouthful of food.

She scowls into her napkin. “Unfortunately. I am one of seven sisters; my mother is the queen of Prakra, and my father her consort.”

Your mouth drops a little. “So, does that make you a princess?”

Nadia smiles. “Yes, it does.”

Holy cow. Never in your life would you think you’d meet a real princess, much less befriend one.

“If you’re a princess, why leave Prakra? Aren’t you, like, in line for the throne or something like that?” Asra asks.

“I am the youngest of all my siblings, so I’m last on a pretty long list already. They coddled me far too much for my liking. It seemed like every day they were dictating what I could and couldn’t do. But, now that I am a Countess, I can take action to benefit the people of Vesuvia.”

“I’m sure they did all that because they were only worried about you,” you say sympathetically.

Nadia hums noncommittally. “Yes, but to have that go on for almost two decades is much too much.”

The food dwindles to crumbs, and after a brief dessert and a cup of tea, you hear brilliant fanfare from the front of the palace.

“Ah, it seems that the entertainment at the Coliseum has come to an end. The palace is now open to the public,” Nadia explains, an excited glimmer in her eyes. “Shall we go see what’s in store?”

“You mean, you don’t know?” Asra asks in disbelief.

“Oh I do know some. But my husband wanted to be in charge of this affair, so I only gave suggestions. I’d be intrigued to see what he’s put together.”

“As if there weren’t enough statues of him already,” Asra mutters, causing you and Nadia to giggle.

Nadia alerts the servants that you all are heading back into the castle, and a group speeds over to the gazebo to clean up lunch. Before the three of you head out, one of the servants mentions a butterfly maze in the palace gardens.

“A maze? How did we miss that?” you ask incredulously.

“This is only a portion of the gardens, I’m not completely surprised we missed it. Thank you, we’ll check the garden grounds more carefully.”

It doesn’t take long to find the maze. Looking at it now, you really do wonder how you had missed it in the first place. 

What seems to be a regular hedge maze has been encased in a netted dome with fluttering wings in the sunlight. Asra finds the entrance, and holds it open for all of you. He fakes a bow as Nadia passes through, and makes her giggle with an over-the-top “Your Highness.”

Inside, it’s almost like another world. Your mouth drops for what feels like the thousandth time today. Hundreds of beautiful butterflies fill your vision, some lazily flying, others happily drinking the nectar from the spring flowers.

If Lucio had planned this, maybe he isn’t so bad after all.

You follow Nadia’s steps from the corner of your eye as you try to absorb the beauty around you. Trying to take everything in, your pace slows as you crane around to spot the different species. You only have a moment’s notice to realize that you’re about to bump into Asra, who also isn’t looking at where he’s going. A quick bump and a brief grunt, you quickly shoot your arms out to hold him steady. Naturally, your gaze wanders and falls onto Asra’s, who’s eyes meet yours. Your eyes seem to be locked, both lost in the others’. A butterfly’s wings brush your cheeks, and another lands in Asra’s hair. Your lip twitches into a smile, and you point out the butterfly, careful not to disturb it. Asra smiles crookedly, but his eyes never leave yours.

Your intimate moment with Asra comes to an end when both of you hear Nadia calling out to you. You come to your senses, almost as if a bubble surrounding you had been popped. You shout a quick “coming!” to Nadia and catch up in a half jog. 

“I’ve only ever seen these flowers in Prakra,” Nadia murmurs wistfully, staring at a huge corridor of warm colored blossoms, clumped together in bunches. 

“They’re beautiful,” you breathe, in awe of the magnitude of flowers.

The three of you file down the organic hallway, and the pleasant, floral aroma is wafted at you. Butterflies of brilliant blues, radiant reds, and vivid violets flutter around, inspecting every inch for nectar. At one point, a few land in Nadia’s hair, spotting the floral hairpiece she has in her braid. She giggles as they travel to her ears and cheeks.

“They tickle, huh?” Asra remarks with a smile. 

“Yes, but not unpleasantly.”

A lone golden butterfly drifts into view and lands on your nose. Your eyes widen and your lips stretch into a wide smile. Nadia catches a glimpse of your companion and giggles.

After a couple of steps, the butterflies fly off. The rest of the butterfly maze is filled with more blooms and many butterflies, which slow your progress through the actual maze. But you spot the exit as Asra and Nadia are weaving flower crowns for the three of you.

“It’s over here!” you shout.

“Perfect, we just finished! Here’s yours,” Asra says, handing you a delicate flower crown with your favorite color flowers.

“Thank you,” you reply, blushing as you place it on your head. You can’t help but notice that Asra’s blue and lavender crown really brings out his eyes. Nadia’s crown of white and gold accentuates her grace.

“Let’s go back around to the front of the palace, shall we?” Nadia suggests once you’re all out of the maze. 

“Sure. Looks like we kind of started this whole thing backwards,” Asra comments, realizing the maze leads out to the garden’s exit.

The three of you walk around the maze and go back to the grounds of the palace facing the rest of Vesuvia, going opposite of the flow of traffic. 


	23. Shall We Dance?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Asra gives you a private lesson.

The gates and grounds are simply littered with people, with ornate stalls and tents littering the spacious land for the Count and Countess. As you walk by, one tent catches your eye where people are eating flowers.

“Flowers are edible?” you ask curiously.

“Well some are, shouldn’t you know that?” Asra asks back smugly. You elbow his ribs for good measure.

“It seems like the chef made these from sugar and pastries,” Nadia explains, entering the tent and taking a closer look.

You and Asra follow suit and pick up a flower. Looking at it closely now, you realize that they are very delicate pastries, and very well crafted. Taking a bite, you can’t help but let out a content moan. Very delicious as well.

And so, you, Asra, and Nadia hop from this tent to that stall to another tent, enjoying its contents. Many of them have different games, and you got to see a bit of Nadia’s competitive side. In the middle of the grounds, a large, fenced off area hosts a variety of different animals that you could all pet. One large, furry animal had happened to spit right in Asra’s direction, and you couldn’t help but laugh when the spit had landed on Asra’s shoes.

The sun makes its way through the sky, and gradually begins to set, and your day of good food and drink slowly comes to an end. But not without a dance outdoors, of course.

“A dance?!” you yelp in surprise, almost dropping the sweets in your hand. “But...I don’t know how to dance.”

“You did fine at the Masquerade,” Asra recalls coolly between mouthfuls of his food.

You give him an exasperated look. “That was just...a shindig of people in the streets. This is a formal  _ dance _ ,” you say, explaining the difference. “I’m sure the former is  _ not _ what Count Lucio has in mind.”

Asra snickers. “I think I’d pay to see Lucio dance like we did at the Masquerade.”

“Do  _ you _ even know how to dance? Formally?” you question, exasperated that you seem to be the only one who didn’t know how.

“Of course I do.” He waves his hand as if it’s obvious.

You can’t help but make a face. Surely Muriel didn’t teach him how.

“I’d be glad to teach you, but I’m afraid this is where I have to slip out for the night. My husband will need me, unfortunately,” Nadia sighs.

“That’s ok, Nadia, I can take it from here,” Asra reassures. “Hopefully we’ll run into each other on the dance floor. Maybe sans Lucio.” He adds the last bit on after thinking about it.

You wave as the Countess takes her leave. Asra? Teaching you how to dance? Heat quickly warms your cheeks, and sweat starts to accumulate on your palms. Of course, of all the times to get clammy hands.

“Here, let’s go over here where it’s more quiet,” Asra suggests, looking excited to be teaching you. His expression only makes your heart beat quicker. But you manage to nod. He grabs your hand and takes the lead.

Asra guides you to a space lit by a couple of lanterns, and surrounded by some shrubbery, which acts as a barrier from the rest of the crowd. No one would come into this space unless it’s purposeful, but there is nothing here to interest anyone.

“This’ll do,” he says after a quick examination. Turning, he takes a hold of your hands. At this point, you just decide to go along with it, and will have to emotionally and mentally process everything later. 

“I can lead this time around, since this is your first dance. You place your hand here, and the other in mine,” he directs gently, placing one hand on his shoulder. He places his other hand tenderly on your waist. 

“Now step back when I take a step here…” 

Asra’s airy voice gently guides you along a basic three-step waltz. Your torso is flush up against his, and his hands ground you. After you get a hang of the waltz, he teaches you a four step. As you’re getting hang of a five step, a light bell chimes through the air, and Lucio’s voice announces that the dance will begin. 

“Looks like show’s on,” Asra murmurs. “You’ve picked up all this really well. Let’s go have fun.”

“Th-thanks,” you manage to stutter out, glad that at least you’re not stepping on his feet anymore.

Keeping one hand still in his, he leads you back to the front of the palace, where it’s been cleared for the final dance. Lucio and Nadia have already taken center stage. You’re about to be impressed with Lucio’s height, since Nadia is rather tall already, until you notice his almost ridiculous heels. Trying to cover your mouth while laughing, you whisper into Asra’s ear to look at Lucio’s heels. He responds with similar snickering.

The Count leads Nadia in a quite intricate dance, which intimidates you more than anything. Surely this is just Count Lucio showing off. 

“We’re not expected to do all that, are we?” you whisper into Asra’s ear anxiously, watching as the Count dips Nadia.

“Probably not, I just think Lucio’s trying to impress everyone.”

You sigh in relief, but it’s short lived as the music comes to a halt and pairs start to occupy the dance floor. Asra brings your hand up to his lips, a whisper of a kiss fluttering on the back of your hand. 

“Ready?” he asks, looking at you from under his eyelashes. 

If you’re as red as you think you are, Asra doesn’t make any comment. You nod and he leads you to dance. 

“Don’t be so tense. Remember, this is all just for fun,” he whispers into your ear once you take your position.

Taking a deep breath, you try to loosen your body. For fun...right.

The music starts slow, and you recognize the four count beat. You look into Asra’s eyes, and suddenly you’re moving.

Never having danced with other people around, you feel like you should be scared that you’re going to step on someone’s shoes, or someone’s dress. But you’re not worried at all, and simply trust that Asra will lead you well. The steps still fresh in your head, you feel the beat of the music and follow him.

The ensemble brings the music from a gentle tune to a swelling melody. A passionate tune from a viol drives Asra to bring you closer to him, if that’s even possible. Looking into his eyes, any closer and your lips would be able to meet.

Asra gives you a flash of a crooked smile before looping an arm around you. He murmurs a “hold on” as a warning before spinning you around and out. You feel your clothes hug your body before flowing out in what feels like a very flashy way. With another twirl he brings you back into his arms, and continue to dance to the ensemble’s music. All the while your eyes never leave Asra’s violet ones. Looking at him, you feel as if you want to say something, and a couple times you open your lips to do so. But the words escape you, and the music would just overtake anything you would say. 

Soon, the music fades until a single instrument ends the song with the gentle tune that had started it all. When the last note rings in the air, Asra brings you to a slow stop, and smiles.

“Amazing,” he breathes, and you’re not sure if he had actually meant to say that out loud.

“What?” you ask naively, as if you didn’t hear anything.

“Oh!” A furious blush blots Asra’s cheeks, and he glances away. “Um, the dance. You did an amazing job.”

You avert your eyes, also blushing. “Thank you.”

Asra leads you off the dance floor and wanders around, looking for Nadia. “I’m actually not sure what we’re going to do with these clothes. We couldn’t take them…”

You spot Nadia taking a sip of wine and entertaining a few other Vesuvians. Calling her name, you wave your hand once you see that she heard you. You and Asra squeeze past the guests filtering out for the night.

“Did you two enjoy yourselves?” Nadia asks. She looks to you specifically. “Was Asra a good teacher?”

You smile. “Yes, he was great. Didn’t trip once.”

He flashes you a smile before looking back to the Countess. “Nadia, I’m afraid we both have early starts tomorrow. Where are our clothes…?”

“Oh, are you both planning on returning home? It’s fairly late in the night, I had assumed you would be staying for the night.”

“R-really?” you ask. You had been expecting to make a tiring trek all the way back to the forest, just to wake up early and make it to the shop the next morning.

“Of course. In fact, I already have two rooms set for the both of you.”

You glance over to Asra. You found yourself a bit shocked and disappointed that you would be sleeping in separate rooms. Remembering back to the first sleepover the two of you had, you recall how reserved you had been in that situation. But now, things are different. For a while now, the two of you had shared a living space with Muriel, and now the idea of separation hurt a bit.

“Two rooms? You mean, we couldn’t just share one?” Asra asks, also sounding a bit sad to be apart.

“The rooms are right next to each other, so you two won’t be far. I can show them to you now, in fact.” With a swish of her dress, Nadia turns to lead you two back into the palace. You and Asra follow.

As you stare at the back of Nadia while trailing behind her gown, a yawn escapes you. Now that the festivities are over, your body feels heavy and tired. You rub your eyes, suddenly struggling to keep them open.

“Here they are, your rooms,” Nadia says, stopping beside two adjacent doors. You open the one closest to you and peer in. A lush bed with fluffy pillows and an inviting canopy awaited in a corner of the room, which is all you can focus on. Your clothes that had been whisked away during the bath are folded neatly on the bed, along with a pair of nightwear. 

“Thank you, Nadia,” you say graciously, fighting back another yawn. 

Nadia chuckles. “Sleep well, the both of you. I’ll have someone deliver an early breakfast tomorrow. If I don’t see you before then, then I hope you had fun. Today was an absolute delight.”

“Thank you for inviting us,” Asra says. “And letting us borrow these wonderful clothes.”

“It was nothing. I love showering my guests with fineries. I’m glad you enjoyed them.” Nadia turns to leave, but not before wishing a good night sleep to the both of you. You return the gesture before turning to Asra.

“Guess this is good night then,” you murmur, rubbing your eyes again. Asra smiles at your lethargy. He reaches out and grabs hold of one of your hands, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Guess so,” he says lowly. Whispering your name, he bids you a good night. At this point, you’re too tired to process what had just happened, so you simply smile, enter the room, change, and fall right into bed. 

  
_ If Nadia sleeps like this every night, I couldn’t dream of getting out of bed... _ is your last thought before floating off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was pure, shameless self indulgence ﾟ.+:｡(〃ω〃)ﾟ.+:｡ ｷｬｧ♪


	24. Peace and the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a storm hits in Vesuvia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the lovely kudos and comments (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ I love reading (and hopefully) replying to every one of them!! Please keep 'em coming.

It’s been some time since the spring festival, and things have more or less been pretty quiet. You would stumble into work every morning, secretly grab lunch with Asra, then work some more until the shop closes and your aunt essentially kicks you out every night. It’s the usual routine by now, but sometimes it still feels a bit degrading. Your aunt has all but banished you to the back half of the shop, and you rarely interact with customers anymore, as if she’s ashamed of your presence.

You’ve vented your feelings to Asra quite a number of times, and he’s been gracious enough to listen.

“I mean, it’s hard to get into the shop on time in the mornings, I can’t help it if I’m a little tired one day, or late another,” you huff on the walk back. 

“You’d think your aunt at this point would have calmed down,” Asra says, empathizing with your frustration.

“You’d think, but wow, can she hold a grudge. I’m not surprised she keeps this up until my parents come back.  _ If _ they ever come back,” you ramble angrily, correcting yourself at the end.

Asra is quiet for a moment. “Do you think they’d really come back? It’s been a while by now, hasn’t it?” he asks quietly.

You think about it. The last time they had just dropped you off at the shop, it had been almost a year, maybe more. In a few good weeks, it’ll have been one year ago that your parents dropped you off at the shop. 

“The last time they left me here, I was here for about a year. So, they may be coming soon...or they may not. I really don’t know.”

Asra’s quiet again, for longer this time. You glance at him, only to find him staring forlornly at his shoes.

“Asra…? Are you ok? Did I say something?” you ask gently, worried that he hasn’t said anything.

“I...Muriel and I’d just miss you if you left, is all,” he murmurs, avoiding your eyes.

Thinking about it, you hadn’t really taken the time to reflect on what would happen if your parents did indeed come back. You had honestly just never thought about it, because every time they leave you here, you always treat it as if they really will never come back. Every time they did return, it had always been a complete shock to you.

“Honestly, I don’t even know if they’ll be coming back. They’re so unpredictable, I don’t think my aunt could even tell me. So...let’s, um, not think about what would happen if they did,” you say quickly, fumbling over your words. 

And, true to your words, that had been the last time you talked about it. Every now and then, you would catch Asra looking at you anxiously, or looking a bit downcast, but you try not to think about it, and what it could mean.

One day, you’re tending to the back of the shop on a slow day, and mostly entertaining yourself with Oberon.

“Oi,” your aunt snaps, making you almost drop the wood you’re feeding to the salamander. You had brought some different specimens from the forest and found that he likes chestnut wood the best. 

“I gotta get outta town for anothar trip - there’s a shipmen’ of rare ingredients for an invisibility potion. I’ll be on a boat to Nevivon for a while. My words still stands--” here, she points her broom at you, as if it’s a weapon, “I best not find that ye were sleepin’ in ‘ere when I return. You open up, do business, then get th’ hell out. Ya hear me?”

With a small gulp, you answer, “Y-yes ma’am.”

Your aunt simply huffs, the only sign that she’s satisfied with your answer. She then goes to grab her effects and travel gear. Her familiar bounds out the front door as she opens it. She turns to look at you one last time. You couldn’t decipher what her glare means, but she turns and closes the door before you can really think about it.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you are holding. The tense knot in your stomach unravels itself as you feel your entire body relax. Pfft, as if you’d listen to her. You’re definitely going to be reclaiming your spot upstairs. 

You pause for a moment, wondering where in the world you got the capacity to even think that. Usually, you would just fearfully listen to what your aunt tells you to do. It feels like it all started with…

Asra.

You breath out a chuckle. He’s definitely changed your life in more than one way. Before meeting him, you would have never thought that you’d have the self worth to go behind your negligent aunt. Smiling to yourself, you throw the rest of the wood you have to the stove salamander. 

“Let’s go find Asra,” you say to Oberon, who encouragingly sniffs back.

Today, you find yourself venturing past the baker and looping through a number of side streets before finally spotting his fluffy white hair. You call out his name and run up to him.

“Is it lunch already?” he wonders, smiling at your smile.

“Yes, well maybe, but that’s not the point - guess who’s gone out of town?”

His smile widens into a grin. “No way!”

You let out a big laugh. “Come on, let’s go eat!”

Asra runs up to you and nudges you arm warmly. Feeling mischievous, you elbow him back before running off. The two of you play tag all the way back to the bakery.

~ ~ ~

The whistling of the tea kettle rings in the air as you close the shop curtains and put the lantern out. You feel a cool sensation on your arm, and a tickling flick of a tongue.

“Hey, Faust. Asra sweep up ok?” you ask as she curls up around your neck.

_ Ok! _ she echoes cutely.

You give her a gentle pat before heading to the back of the shop. There, you see Asra and Oberon getting into a bit of a tickle fight. 

“Sure, knock the kettle over while you’re at it,” you joke, catching a cup that’s about to fall onto the ground.

Asra chuckles. “In my defense, he started it,” he blames, pointing a finger at your familiar.

“Sure he did,” you say sarcastically.

You sit with him for a cup of tea and a light supper, just chatting about really anything that pops into your head, and simply enjoying the fact that you don’t have to scramble back to the forest to get a good night’s sleep.

“I think I will miss the chickens for a bit,” you comment, staring at your empty glass.

“Ah, you’ll see them soon enough.” Asra finishes his cup of tea and you grab the dishes to be cleaned. “I’m assuming we’re still not going to risk the bed?” he asks.

You snort. “I’ll be in enough trouble if she actually does find that I’ve slept here. If she found out I used her bed, I think I’d be dead where I stand.”

After cleaning up, you go upstairs to assess the damage, expecting to see a fully crammed room with miscellaneous boxes. Instead, you’re surprised to see that it hasn’t changed too much. A few more boxes had been stacked here and there, but even your pillows remain, albeit tucked away in a corner. You spot a blanket on top of another pile of boxes as well.

Asra helps clear some room and you throw down the pillows. Then, it’s as if nothing had changed, as if you hadn’t been kicked out. The two of you comfortably get ready for bed, checking on respective familiars before finally lying down.

You yawn and stretch, taking a chance to glimpse out the window into the night sky. A few stars twinkle above the roofs of buildings.

“I hope she gets stuck, or her ship gets delayed,” you mutter sleepily.

“Yeah, or she decides to take a small vacation,” Asra says. 

Grabbing a pillow to hold, you let out one more yawn. “‘Night, Asra,” you mumble. 

“Good night,” he whispers, and you two fall asleep.

~ ~ ~

A flash of eerie light briefly illuminates the shop, followed by a sharp crack of thunder. You look up out the window and see torrential rains threaten to pour in.

“I told you it would rain hard today,” you call out to Asra, who’s practicing his charm crafting for some orders.

It’s been almost a month since your aunt had left to go on another trip, somehow still trusting you to look after the shop. You guess it’s just to have the money keep flowing in.

You feel a nudge from behind you. Turning, you give a smirk to your friend.

“Fine, you were right. But I still feel bad for Muriel - we should check up on him soon.”

“Yeah, you’re right...”

After a brief moment, Asra gives you a playful look. “But maybe it’s not so bad, being stuck in this little shop with you while it rains outside.”

You can’t help but glow red after that statement. Something warm flutters in your stomach and you lightly punch his arm. “Yeah, you know, having you to help out with my chores isn’t so bad.”

Asra simply laughs, but is cut off by the shop’s front door slamming open. A messenger stands in the doorway, note clutched in his hand. The look on his face turns your good mood sour.

Looking you dead in the eye, the messenger speaks. “I’ve received word that a ship headed to Nevivon has sunk in the oncoming storm. The woman who owns this shop was on that ship...so far there are no survivors…”

Icy shock turns your toes cold and your hands clammy. Your ears start to ring, but you vaguely hear Asra thanking the messenger and shutting the door right as the rain starts to pour.

Your brain can’t seem to process the words correctly. The ship...sank? No survivors? ...What...what are you going to do? You can’t run this shop by yourself! How are you going to eat? Is someone going to come and throw you on the streets now?

It takes a couple minutes to realize that Asra is calling your name, gently shaking your shoulder. Slowly coming back down to earth, you meet Asra’s tender eyes.

He slowly brings you into a hug and that’s when your anxiety bursts through. Your chest tightens. Your breath becomes short. Is it possible that the world is running out of air? You couldn’t feel any tears, but you still wanted to cry out. 

Asra simply offers his support, kindly rubbing your back while murmuring “it’s ok” softly into your hair. You feel his lips against your temple, and his smoky scent seems to embrace you. You bury your face into his chest, so grateful for him.

After a few minutes, you find your voice again. “Asra...what...what am I going to do? I-I’m not even legal to buy a drink, let alone own a shop...”

He lifts his hand to stroke your hair. “I’m not sure...but we’ll figure out something, ok? Don’t worry...I won’t leave you.”

And just hearing those words brings tears to your eyes.

~ ~ ~

It took a bit for you to calm down from your outburst. But after Asra had made you a soothing cup of tea, the tense knot of fear began to loosen and unwind in your gut.

Strangely, you don’t feel too much sorrow for your aunt’s untimely demise. Thinking more about it, it’s weird. She had given you a roof, food, and an opportunity to practice magic. 

“...Asra,” you quietly call your friend’s name. He looks up from his cup of tea. Meeting his gaze, you continue. “I...I think something’s wrong with me.”

Concern wrinkles his brows. “What’s wrong?”

“I...I don’t…” You try to find the right words. “...I’m not sad. That my aunt...died. I’m just...anxious. And fearful. About my future. About what I’m going to do. But...isn’t that bad? She...she at least didn’t leave me on the street completely, or with some other person, like my parents did...” You hear your voice dwindle, and it almost feels like you’re watching all this happen from outside your body. Saying what you’re actually feeling...it scared you. You bring yourself back to your body, feeling Oberon’s comforting presence, and Faust’s sympathetic squeeze.

Asra reaches across the table you two are sitting at and gently takes hold of your hand. He soothingly says your name, as if to help call you back to your body, to ease your worries. “From the way I saw you and your aunt interact, it wasn’t great. I mean, she kicked you out of the shop...”

That part is true. She had been absolutely furious, and did kick you out of your living quarters. It had seemed like the rest of Vesuvia couldn’t care less, but you guess where your aunt had grown up, these things aren’t normal…

Asra gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “Plus, she didn’t really make it easy for you to have friends. I feel lucky to have set up my booth right by your shop…” He meets your eyes and smiles softly. “You’ve been so kind to me...but it seemed like your aunt didn’t really care about that.”

That was true. Your aunt seemed to almost hate Asra, and fortune tellers in general.

The steady beat of the rain against the shop’s roof fills the air. You take a chance to sip more tea in the silence. 

Asra also takes a sip, then looks out the window. “I’m not sure there are going to be many more customers for today. Maybe it’ll be good to close up early,” he suggested kindly.

As soon as he says that, you feel fatigue overwhelm your being. “Yeah...I like that idea.”

Sensing your fatigue, Asra rises to put out the lantern and close the curtains. He comes back over and sits beside you this time. You lean to put your head onto his shoulder. A moment passes before you murmur, “Please don’t leave…”

The magician simply puts his arm around you. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You feel your anxiety slowly ease in your chest and find your eyelids heavy…

~ ~ ~

You wake up to the sound of something sizzling on the hearth. Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you lift your head up from the table, and feel the blanket that was draped over your shoulders fall down. You turn your head to see Asra cooking up something over the stove.

With a light stretch, you get up and wander over.

“How was your nap?” Asra asks.

You hum, peeking over his shoulder to see what he’s cooking. “Alright. I guess I am feeling better than before.”

“I’m glad,” he says, smiling. 

“So, what’s for dinner? Smells good so far.”

He chuckles. “Thanks. It stopped raining for a bit, so I ran out and got some stuff nearby.”

“Wow...thank you.”

“Of course.”

You peer out the window, watching the rain start to fall again. Asra plates the food and hands one plate to you. The two of you both sit down and quietly start to dig in.

Dinner passes slowly and quietly. You honestly don’t have much of an appetite, but you eat with Asra’s silent encouragement. You manage to finish half of your dinner before giving up on eating. Asra puts it away and wraps you in another warm, comforting hug. He stays like that, occasionally rubbing your arm, as if to bring feeling back into your numb body. You lean your head into the crook of his neck.

Soon, you’re slowly guided out of the chair and up the stairs into your bedroom. Asra helps get you comfortable, then fluffs up your pillows before inviting you to lay down. Staring at your bed, you now want nothing but to sleep for at least a week. You let out a sigh as you finally lay down. Asra puts an arm around you, and you smile. 

“Thank you…” you whisper, before falling asleep.

Asra fondly smiles at your sleeping face, and places the lightest kiss on your forehead, holding you close as he goes to sleep.


	25. The Small Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you get a chance to plan a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nice long chapter for y'all :D

It hadn’t been easy, at first. At first, you had been grateful, being able to wake up in the shop. But then you would remember why you could sleep where you used to, and would be sad. Not, as you said to Asra, because of your aunt’s passing, but just the gaping hole her permanent absence has made in your day to day life. Almost a week had passed before you had felt ready to open the shop back up. Occasionally a few customers would knock on the door, one man had pounded on it, but most respected the lonely shop after hearing the news.

You had absolutely no idea what would have happened if Asra hadn’t been there with you. He had helped you prepare potion ingredients, weave charms, and light the lantern when the shop had opened. He would graciously greet customers, while you could stay in the back and work your magic. Oberon and Faust had been great companions in the back with you. Your familiar would give an encouraging flick of his tail, or a warm nudge of his head. Faust’s aura had been very calming, and her curiosity would make you smile more and more.

When lunch time would come, Asra had taken the liberty of closing the shop for well over an hour, so the two of you would have enough time to comfortably eat, prep for the afternoon rush, as well as checking in with you to see how you had been doing.

There had been days, of course, where you simply couldn’t muster the energy to work. The simple, but daunting, idea of you having to inherit the entire shop, and independently bringing in income, sometimes had drained you before you could even think of getting out of bed. The first time that feeling had hit you, you remember Asra’s calm voice, saying how everything was going to be ok. That you could just sleep in, and he would handle it. 

But, Asra only knows how to make a small handful of the potions the shop offers, you think to yourself as you lie in bed. What would he do?

When lunch had rolled around that day, you had gotten your answer.

Asra had cleared the table in the back where they would eat sometimes and set up incense and candles for readings. He had left the door open with a sign inviting passersby with card readings. Not only did the incense and candles help with the ambience, but also enhanced his magic and he had gotten better readings than he would have outside in his little set up. 

From then on, the shop had begun to offer card readings alongside magical goods.

The delightful spring air then soon had become heavy with humidity, and bringing the season of summer with it. Talks of this year’s Masquerade had already been permeating the streets; how Count Lucio had intended to create the most extravagant ball yet.

“That’s his aim every year,” Asra had said when you told him what you had heard. You giggle at his exasperated expression. By now, you rarely had a bad day, and had almost gotten back into the regular swing of things, as if your aunt is still abroad on a trip.

“Why  _ do _ you hate the Count so much anyway? Sure, he’s annoying, but he’s egotistical. It’s not to harm anyone.”

You notice that Asra bites back a scoff. “I’ve heard some bad things happening with flooding in the southern districts. It’s not looking too good. Muri has seen some of it too.”

To not exclude his friend, Asra had extended to stay at the shop to Muriel. But he had immediately turned it down, which you both had foreseen. Asra had said he had wanted to try still. 

You purse your lips in thought. While you hadn’t seen the damage yourself, thinking about it, you’ve definitely heard some customers chat about the poor conditions there. Something just didn’t sit right with you. If he had all this money to throw what is essentially a huge party, then why not give some of it to the districts that need the money?

“Besides, he was a real pain when he was first appointed as Count,” Asra continues, leaning against the counter top.

_ Real pain! _ Faust echoes, slithering up Asra’s shoulder.

“Was he? I don’t think I was around then.”

“Yeah, he’s sort of the reason how Muriel and I met. He happened to be around and bullied him. I used some magic to distract Lucio enough for Muri to get away.”

You had no idea. But it almost sounds unbelievable, someone so high up as the Count to be wandering the streets, berating on street urchins.

“Do you think Nadia’s going to invite us to the palace this year?” you ask, wanting to steer the topic onto something happier.

“Oh, I didn’t even think about that. That would be fun. Or we could wander the streets like last year, I liked that.” He gives you a fond smile, to which you avert your eyes, blushing. Usually he would let you slide, but not today apparently. “Oh? Is everything alright? Getting a little warm?” he persists, inching closer to you with every question. 

Oh my god, what is he doing? you think to yourself. You had to keep it cool, otherwise Asra is never going to let this go.

“It has been getting warm. The humidity is definitely there,” you comment offhandedly, averting your eyes.

“That’s true. It’s Faust’s hatchday in a couple days,” Asra says, giving a few scritches to his familiar. 

_ Asra birthday too! _ Faust flickers her tongue kindly.

You look to him. Asra’s birthday?

“It’s your birthday too?” you ask, a bit incredulous. Would he have said something if Faust hadn’t mentioned it? The thought hurts you a bit. You want to be able to celebrate his birthday.

“Yeah, Faust and I have the same birthday.” Asra chuckles as Faust playfully winds up onto his head.

“We should do something!” you suggest, hoping you could whip something together in time.

Now it’s Asra’s turn to get red in the face. “Oh, y-you don’t have to. It’ll probably just be nice to spend a day with you and Muriel.”

Wanting to get back at him for earlier, you mischievously smile and lean in. “What do you mean? What if I want to do something special?”

You could see his eyes widening, and his cheeks just getting more red. You’re about to say something playful but the door opens and a customer entering stops you from doing so.

~ ~ ~

Asra’s birthday. Oh man, what  _ are _ you going to do? He had been your first friend in this foreign town, and he had done so much for you especially in these past few weeks. You definitely wanted to at least show your gratitude...and hopefully a little more.

Oh, and you couldn’t forget Faust, of course.

Asra had gone to visit Muriel for the day, leaving the shop in your charge, which would be the first day in a long time that you would be looking after the shop all on your own. Thinking today is going to be a slow day, you get comfortable behind the counter and start weaving some herbs into a twine charm to sell.

You know that Asra’s favorite food is blue tongued skink, which when you first heard that shocked you. Back where you had grown up, you couldn’t imagine eating that. But you had tried it, and admitted that it hadn’t been bad.

His favorite tea is lapsang souchong, thinking back to the spring festival. You had no idea how or where to find that though. 

If this had been Asra planning for your birthday, you’re sure that he would be trying to think of an experience to surprise you with. Maybe you could do the same.

“What do you think, Oberon?” He meets your eyes, silently twitching his whiskers.

“Yeah...let’s see if we can plan something!”

~ ~ ~

The past couple of days had been busy, with you secretly trying to plan his and Faust’s birthday surprise. A few times you had thought Asra was onto your plan, but they had been false alarms. 

Finally, their birthday finally comes around. Unfortunately, as you light the lantern and open the curtains, you’re greeted with two waiting customers, wanting specific charms that you would have to make. Asra agrees to look over the shop while you go make them.

You overhear him make some small talk while you gather all the necessary materials. If things keep up like this, then you may have to adjust your plans. Hopefully you could have lunch with him still.

Once you put on the final touches, you wrap them up and exchange the charms for coins. But right as they leave, another customer comes in.

“It’s gonna be a busy day today, huh,” Asra comments as you grab the potion the customer had requested.

“Yeah, which really isn’t fair. Vesuvia should be having a holiday today, since it’s your birthday and all,” you comment playfully, flashing a grin Asra’s way. He tries to brush off his pink cheeks with a laugh.

“Do you think Muriel’s going to try and come by today? It’d be nice to see him.”

“Hm, I’m not sure. He seemed more reserved when I visited him. I tried to talk to him, but he was his usual stoic self. We picked some mushrooms together, though.”

You’re about to say something, but the opening door steals your attention.

The hours slowly crawl by, with a steady flow of customers coming in and out of the shop, some asking for potions, others for a reading. You’ve noticed a couple of familiar faces and realize that Asra has gained some loyal customers. 

Lunch hour lightens just enough for you to run out and grab something quick to eat, or so you had said to Asra before leaving. Truthfully, you set your path to go get his favorite for lunch. Luckily, you still remember where the vendor’s stall is who sells blue-tongued skink.

“Mmm, that smells good--oh!” Asra gasps, surprised to find a nice plate of skink kabobs before him.

“Gotta celebrate today somehow, despite us being busy,” you say cheerfully.

Asra takes a moment to look into your eyes before his hunger and excitement overtakes him. “Alright, let’s eat then!”

You barely finish your first stick when you hear another customer’s voice call out from the front. Stopping Asra from getting up, you say, “Don’t worry about it, I can handle it. Just enjoy your lunch!”

Turning, you’re surprised when you feel a hand on your arm. “I’d much rather enjoy it with you.” He gets up and brings the plate with him.

You tend to the customer’s needs, and when she departs, Asra grabs a stick and brings it to your mouth. “Say ahh,” he says cheekily.

A laugh bursts out of you. “Hey, birthday boy, aren’t I supposed to be feeding you?”

“What, whyyy? This is much more fun for me.”

You stick your tongue out, but does as he says. “Ahhh,” you say, making a point to exaggerate yourself.

He continues to feed you while you tidy up the counter and make sure the books are correct. When you’re both done, he decides to light some incense and make some tea. The smoky scent seems to both calm you and make you more aware of yourself.

The afternoon rolls by, with customers asking for readings about their futures, their livelihoods, and even one about love. Meanwhile, you take a quick inventory of the materials you have, making a note of what’s running low. One customer, after her reading, asks Asra on the way out if he’s going to be selling his masks here too for the Masquerade.

“Of course. I appreciate you remember,” he says kindly.

“That’ll be fun to do, the three of us making those,” you comment as he closes the door. 

“Yeah, we’ll need to start on that soon, actually.”

As the sun starts to set, you take a breath before putting the lantern out and closing the curtains. The lunch had only been one part of Asra’s birthday present. While you had gone out to buy lunch, you had managed to snag some things for dinner, as well as complete your present for Faust.

You reach out to the python with your mind, and she responds with a cheerful ‘ _ Friend! _ ’

_ I’ve got something for a special long girl, _ you preface fondly before pulling out a smooth stone dotted with mystical carvings. You pulse some magic into it, causing the contours to glow warmly.

_ Warm! _ Faust eagerly slithers up to the rock and promptly coils herself onto it. You smile widely and scritch her head before grabbing your basket.

“Hey Asra, hope you’re hungry,” you call out as you get everything ready.

“Yeah, actually, I a--what is this?” he stops and asks as you stand, basket in hand.

“A magician never reveals their secrets. Come on, let’s go,” you reply mysteriously. You grab his hand and lead him out the back door.

“Where are we going?” he asks curiously. You can hear the smile in his voice.

“Didn’t I just say that I wasn’t going to tell you?”

“Oh come ooon,” he replies with a playful grin. You simply roll your eyes, keeping strong under his attempts to make you spill. 

Like a restless child, he repeats “are we there yet?” from time to time. Sometimes you give a response, sometimes you merely smirk. Only until you two arrive at a dock does Asra finally know where the destination is.

“Here?” You’re not sure if he sounds impressed or disappointed. You’d forgotten that he had grown up on the docks, and now wince at your mistake. Instead of answering, you give a small bag of coins to a gondolier, asking to borrow one. He pulls one up for the both of you, and with some intuitive magic, you’re both sailing at a gentle pace in the water.

Asra looks out at the water, mesmerized. You take this chance to set the basket down and take out his first gift.

“Here you go,” you present kindly, holding a bouquet of belladonnas for him.

He stares at the flowers, amazed. “How...did you know? These are my favorite.”

“A little...lavender bird told me,” you answer casually. Asra simply smiles. “I forget that you can communicate with her. These are lovely, thank you.”

You take out the food you had packed, the majority of which you had gotten from the bakery. You had told the baker that you were shopping for Asra’s birthday dinner, and he had graciously given a small pastry with the loaf you had purchased.

As you lay out some cheese and vegetables, Asra chuckles. “Almost like the lunch we had at the palace with Nadia.”

Your ears turn a little warm. “Almost.” In all honesty, you had been trying to emulate that sort of feel, but of course, there had been no way you could have afforded such luxurious ingredients. “I tried anyway.”

“Both are wonderful,” Asra comments warmly.

The two of you share dinner comfortably, talking about everything and nothing. At some point, Asra reaches into his bouquet and picks out one flower to put in your hair. “So we both have something floral,” he explains. You can’t help but blush.

As the food gets eaten, Asra finally gets to the small pastry from the baker. “This is wonderful,” he praises. “We should definitely thank him when we get the chance.” You nod in agreement.

By the time all the food is gone, the sun has completely set, and the stars are out. You look up at them, suddenly feeling very small, with the water below you and the sky above.

“You know, I used to look up at the stars on the dock, thinking that that was going to be how I grew up,” Asra murmurs after a moment passes. “Somehow getting by and still living out on the docks alone.”

You turn your gaze to him, finding yourself admiring his profile as he gazes at the stars. “At least you had Muriel; you weren’t totally alone.”

He smiles. “Yeah, he’s still a good friend.” He blinks and turns his gaze to you. “But I’m glad that we’re friends too.”

You smile and lean your head on his shoulder. Taking a deep breath, you let out a contented sigh. Life...seems good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!!


	26. The Dealt Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you and Asra both have an unbelievable incident with a certain one-armed man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay (_ _) the holidays make it feel like every day is Saturday.

The Masquerade is in full swing, and Asra really thinks Lucio had pulled out all the stops. He had announced that he intended for the Masquerade to last almost a week, and at first Asra had honestly now idea how Lucio would be managing that. But on the first day you had quickly realized the Count’s abilities to throw a party, and understood that yes, the Count (and possibly only the Count) could pull this off. Nadia had thoughtfully invited both of you to celebrate at the palace, and it is teeming with red and gold.

It’s now the third day of the Masquerade, and Asra’s amazed that all of Vesuvia has yet to be lulled into a drunken stupor. Shops and venues are still open, but they manage very restricted hours for the festivities. Even you both only open the shop for a couple hours when you two wanted to get away from the palace’s rather rowdy setting.

Asra had been floored with Nadia’s costumes that she had tailored for the two of you. He couldn’t stop glancing at your plunging neckline the first day of the festivities. Luckily he had only been caught once or twice, but he still found himself sneaking glances every so often. 

Carefully, he weaves through the crowded ballroom floor towards the refreshments. He had been enjoying dancing with you, especially after teaching you a couple new steps and moves. Sensing you slowing down, he had offered to get some drinks. But Asra gets stopped by an ostentatious golden arm materializing in front of him.

“Ohoho, looks like we meet again,” the Count chuckles. Lucio’s voice sends ice down Asra’s spine, but he doesn’t show it.

“Count Lucio, why, it’s an honor,” Asra says stiffly, putting on a reserved smile. In reality, he wishes he could stomp on his toes and dart off.

“When Noddy told me that she had invited some guests, I had no idea that  _ you _ would be among them.” Lucio adds a subtle sneer when referring to Asra. But the magician keeps his gaze steady into Lucio’s silver eyes, a small act of defiance.

“Well what can I say, guess my company satisfies her more than yours does,” Asra retorts with a smug smile. His smile widens when he sees Lucio’s visible frustration. The blonde recovers before speaking.

“Hm, well maybe I should see for myself.” Lucio’s lips curl into a cold smirk before pulling Asra back onto the dance floor. Asra bites back a grimace when the Count sets his hand on his waist.

“What are you talking about,” Asra muttered, glowering. Lucio takes the lead, but not without struggling from Asra. 

“Why should Nadia be hogging your friendship? Come and play in the palace with me.” Lucio replies into Asra’s ear as they continue to dance. Asra struggles not to roll his eyes. He had known that Lucio can be an exhibitionist, but isn’t this a bit much?

“Jealous, are you?” Lucio simply glowers at him before jerking Asra into a little twirl.

“What if I say no?” Asra asks when they’re back in position. Lucio lets out a laugh through his nose.

“Well, if you say no, then you say no. But that answer won’t be too good for your friend.”

Friend? Asra fights to control his panic, but he notices Lucio smile wider when he had squeezed his hand. Had Lucio noticed you? He prays not - Lucio had already antagonized enough people in his life, he didn’t want to add you to the list.

“Yes, your friend,” Lucio continues. “I’m sure I can find a use for that tall, hulking boy. He’s impressive, really.”

Asra slowly lets out a breath he didn’t realize he had held. Muriel, the Count had been referring to Muriel. That doesn’t make things any less stressful for Asra, but the two of them had outwitted the Count before, they can do it again. Hopefully. Lucio doesn’t know about his friendship with you, and Asra intends to keep it that way.

“You wouldn’t touch him,” Asra says heatedly. 

“Oh? Well, if you don’t want that to happen, you’ll be at the palace in a week’s time.”

Asra bites his lip as the song comes to an end. Lucio relaxes out of the dance position but keeps Asra close. “Come in a week, and we can all have a good time,” Lucio mutters into Asra’s ear. He straightens himself and gives Asra one last devilish smile before turning and boisterously yelling to attract a crowd to frolick in the castle with.

Asra can feel his stomach dropping. The last thing he wants is to be anywhere near Lucio. But he would never want Muriel to get hurt, especially because of him. So what choice does he have?

“There you are!”

You run up to the white haired boy, relieved that you’ve found him. “Where have you been? I went to the refreshments table and didn’t see you!” Then you notice he isn’t responding. “Asra? Did something happen?” you ask more quietly.

“Hm?” He shakes himself out of his reverie and looks at you. “Oh, sorry. I ran into someone and got caught up. I’m sorry for leaving you, did you get your drink?”

“Yeah...are you sure you’re alright?” You look closely at his face and see that some color has left his cheeks.

“Totally fine. Now come on, let’s go, I heard there’s a room with floating lanterns.” He grabs your hand and gives you a characteristic smile. Excited by the idea of the lanterns, you smile back and follow him out the ballroom.   
  


Asra tries his best to keep his mood up, which to his surprise, isn’t hard. Seeing you enjoying yourself, the light twinkling in your eyes, and with your beautiful outfit, it allows him to relax. He smiles and laughs as he goes from room to room, enjoying the different food and entertainment, distracting himself from what he had agreed to.

Asra could never let you know about him and Lucio. He didn’t want you to get tangled up in his mess. He’d figure a way out of this...somehow. But for now, it looks like he’s stuck playing Lucio’s game. 

~ ~ ~ 

It’s the next day of festivities, and you and Asra saunter into the ballroom. Asra’s palace outfit Nadia had tailored for him never ceased to make your heart flutter. You pray that he never caught your hasty glimpses at him.

You and Asra hear your names, and turn to see Nadia, regal as ever. You smile and rush over.

“You look stunning today, Nadi,” Asra compliments. You nod in agreement.

“The same to the both of you,” she returns with a smile. You laugh in response. “Nadi, these are  _ your _ outfits you made for us!”

Putting on a facetious smile, she casually flips part of her hair back. “Oh, I suppose they are. I guess I should take credit where it is due, in terms of taste.”

The three of you share a silent moment before laughing together. “The two of you must be hungry. The chef has created quite a spread, please help yourself.”

You brighten up. “Thank you, Nadi!” Asra mirrors your excitement. With a smooth motion of his arm, he hooks yours in his and half-guides, half-drags you to the tables. He laughs as you poke him to let you go, but you can’t help your cheeks turning red.

The music is lively, but soothing, and there are just enough people to drown out a conversation between a pair of guests. In the midst of your hunger, you lose Asra and Nadia in the crowd. You hear the ravenous munching of one of Lucio’s courtiers, Procurator Volta. Giving her a wide berth, you start filling a plate with food. Even though Nadia has given both you and Asra open invitations to the palace, it isn’t like you live next door. So any chance to indulge yourself on royal delicacies, you are going to take it.

Off elsewhere in the ballroom, a flashy, golden arm absentmindedly scratches his chin as Lucio glances around the ballroom.

“Noddy, which guest is that?” he murmurs into his wife’s ear while she’s conversing with a couple of guests, intrigued by a new face. Biting back an eye roll, she briefly turns her attention to him.

“Ah, that is the friend of Asra’s I mentioned,” Nadia explains, finding that Lucio had pointed at you. “Now if you’ll excuse me, before I was so rudely interrupted,” she mutters before turning back to her conversation.

Brushing off Nadia’s jab, Lucio straightens himself and weaves his way through the ballroom to you. He calls your name to get your attention.

“I don’t believe we’ve formally met. I am Count Lucio,” Lucio presents grandly, putting on his flashiest smile.

Surprised by the ruling figure introducing himself to you, you blush and bite back a squeak. “O-oh my--Count Lucio! It’s my pleasure,” you stammer, catching yourself awkwardly bowing to him. In that moment, you realize that you don’t know how to really interact with royalty. Nadia had warmed up to you and Asra almost instantly, and as a result, your relationship with her began as friends instead of the normal Countess-subject relationship that most would have with her. 

You then notice the Count dismissively waving a hand. “Please, no need for that here. This is, after all, my Masquerade. But I didn’t catch your name?”

Still red, you mentally smack your head. Of course. You apologize and introduce yourself, stopping yourself before you bow to him again.

Then, as if you couldn’t get any redder, he deftly takes hold of your hand and lifts it to his lips to kiss.

What is happening right now?

You are positive your face and neck are beet red, as you feel the Count’s lips lingering on the back of your hand. Daring to look at his face, you see his eyes closed in discreet joy. Your eyes at this point are as wide as saucers.

What  _ is _ happening right now?

Lucio lowers your hand, but doesn’t let go quite yet. “The music is quite lovely. Care for a dance?”

He already has your hand. It’s not like you could really say no either -- this is the Count after all. That would be rude of you.

You mutely nod, not trusting your tongue at this point. Lucio flashes another suave smile before leading you to the other dancing guests.

Usually when you and Asra dance, the two of you take turns leading and following, ebbing and flowing like waves on a shore. But with Lucio, it’s totally different. There’s a certainty and vigor in the Count’s steps that demand to lead. And of course, you let him. You wouldn’t dare challenge him, not when you couldn’t even speak to him. 

With the Count’s heels, there is a bit of a height difference between the two of you. You are consciously aware of the placement of your hands, and make sure they don’t wander. At one point you get so worried about your hands that you almost trip in the middle of the dance. But Lucio smoothly recovers for you by striking a pose. The close proximity makes your face hot again.

“Be careful now,” he breathes softly. 

Stumbling over a number of things to say, you manage a “th--sorry.” Again, you mentally berate yourself, realizing you had tried to just say “thank you” and “sorry” at the same time.

Lucio just chuckles fondly as he rights the two of you back into the dance. You feel your legs turn to jelly, from embarrassment or something else you don’t know.

Eventually the song ends and the dancers take a moment to thank their partners before dispersing. 

Despite earlier, you find yourself half bending your knees and saying, “Thank you, Count Lucio, for the dance.”

After thinking you couldn’t be more surprised, you find that you are completely wrong. The Count smoothly reaches out to your face and gently tilts it up so you meet his gaze. “Of course -- a stunning person such as yourself needs an equally stunning partner.”

You’re sure Count Lucio could see the fierce blush on your cheeks, but to your relief, he lowers his hand after his thumb slowly brushes your jawline. With a final smile, you simply stare after him as he walks away, the  _ click clack _ of his heels echoing in the hall.

Off to the side of the hall, Asra is fuming. As if Lucio hadn’t done enough to interfere with his life already. First his parents, then Muriel, and now you? No. He’s had it.

He all but storms right up to Lucio. Feeling his temper boiling, he cheekily jabs a finger into Lucio’s chest. 

“Don’t you dare think about touching them again, Lucio,” Asra threatens, seething. 

Lucio simply looks amused. Not moving Asra’s finger, he just raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And what will you do if I do?”

“I swear, Lucio, I’ll--” But Lucio cuts Asra off.

“Or should I say, what  _ can _ you do?” he sneers, allowing the true meaning of his words dawn on the magician.

Asra’s face falls as he lowers his hand. Despite not wanting to admit it, Lucio is right. What can he do? Lucio already threatened to hurt Muriel if Asra didn’t essentially be his plaything. What if he did something to you too? What if…

Lucio’s low chuckle draws Asra out of his grievous thoughts. “I see the two of you have an interesting relationship. Yes, quite interesting...perhaps if I see you step out of line again, it won’t just be Muriel who will be punished, hm?” And with one last devilish smile, Lucio turns and walks away, leaving Asra crestfallen.

Asra couldn’t seem to move his feet. His thoughts tell him to move, get away, do something. But the dense ball of grief sitting in his stomach seems to weigh his legs down. All he can do is stare at the spot where Lucio stood…

Soon, however, he feels the eyes of strangers bearing into the back of his head. Nervously, he straightens himself and manages to drag his feet through the crowd and onto the ballroom’s balcony. The cool night breeze ruffles his curly hair, and relaxes him ever so slightly. 

“Asra?” a soft voice calls his name. Feelings of both comfort and dread fill his stomach again. Slowly, he turns to you.

You’re shocked to find Asra almost on the brink of tears. You hadn’t seen him for a while, and had gone looking for him. Luckily, you had seen his poofy hair as he strolled onto the quiet balcony. You were going to ask him if he’s tired, and if he wanted to go back, but his stricken face stops you in your tracks.

Then, in a rush, Asra rushes to you and envelopes you in a bone crushing, almost desperate hug. Flustered, you reciprocate his hug. You have so many questions, but once you feel the hot drip of his tears, your words fall silent.

“Asra? Are you ok?” you murmur, worried for your friend.

A minute passes, then two, then three, before Asra loosens his hold on you and speaks. “I...I was just…” He sighs before starting again, breathing out a shaky apology before trying to smile. “I think I just needed a hug.”

You look into his eyes, and brush away a stray tear with your thumb. You don’t think it was just a hug Asra needed then. That hadn’t just been a hug. It had been something more. Like an almost desperate plea to keep you close to him.

He leans into your touch, and his lips graze the pad of your finger. Something inside you sparks to life as the two of you share an intimate moment. 

“Are you sure you’re ok? You’re crying…” you murmur, lowering your hand.

Asra sighs, grief returning to his eyes. Glancing back to the crowded ballroom, he takes your hand and kisses your palm. “We can talk once we’re back at the shop...but, please, promise me one thing.”

“Yes?”

“Please try and avoid Lucio.”

That isn’t what you had expected to hear at all.

“The Count? Why?”

A flash of anger darkens Asra’s eyes. But it disappears in a blink.

“It’s...it’s a long story. I can tell you later, somewhere more...private. But he and I...unfortunately have a history. He’s dangerous, and can be manipulative. Please, just be careful and don’t go near him.”

So many emotions mix inside you. Worry, curiosity, empathy...you didn’t know what to do. So you embrace Asra, who gladly returns the hug. You guess this is how Asra felt before hugging you earlier. 

“I’ll do my best.”


	27. The First of Many

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Asra begins a familiar habit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been sort of getting away from the Arcana, but I promise this will be finished!! Thanks for reading y'all :) always happy to see comments and kudos.

Asra’s had it. He’s had enough of Lucio demanding his presence whenever the blonde is mildly bored at the palace, where he could have anything and everything delivered to him on a silver platter. Every week, he would get summoned, and for days straight, he would have to cater to Lucio’s illogical ideas of magic, among other petty things. He’s starting to think this is some extremely trivial way to feel power over Asra after what he had done to humiliate the Count.

With a huff, Asra continues to stuff a simple bag with necessities. He just needs to leave for a while. Distance is the only thing that seems to be the thing that can stop the Count from just demanding him at the palace. 

“Asra?” you call, hearing a bunch of scuffling and rustling. This is the one part that Asra isn’t looking forward to. He had promised himself to never reveal the deal Lucio had with him, but he had to come up with some explanation as to why he’s going to be going away for a week or so. 

“Asra, is everything ok?” you ask again as you go up to the bedroom that you had reclaimed from your aunt. You open the door to reveal your friend packing a bag on the bed. He lets out a small “oh” and utters your name.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you. Um, yeah, I heard about these herbs to the north that could be good to have for our shop. So I was thinking I’d go and check it out.” You feel like you can hear a stutter in his voice, but perk up at the mention of rare herbs.

“Could it be yarrow, or wormwood?”

“It might be, I didn’t get specifics. But I figure I could still check it out. We’re having a bit of a slow period anyhow.”

“Can’t I come with you, then?” The trip sounds like it could be a refreshing step away from Vesuvia to somewhere new.

“I’ve heard the caravan that’s taking people can be going along a dangerous route. Maybe I should go this time, and then if all goes well, we can go together next time,” Asra reasons.

You pout, wanting to go with him. But it probably wouldn’t be ideal to have the shop closed for over a week. “You better take me with you next time.”

Asra smiles fondly at you. “Of course.” Putting on his travel coat and scarf, he secures his things and heads down the stairs with you.

“I’ll see you soon?” you ask as you stand in the doorway.

He reaches for your hand and gently takes a hold. “See you soon.”

_ Soon! _ Faust pipes up, winding up on your shoulders. Asra giggles.

“Look after her for me.”

You nod. “I will.” That’s a definite sign that Asra will be returning safe and sound. Well, at least in one piece.

And with that, he sets off into the streets.

  
  


You watch as Asra shuts the door behind him. The shop seems gloomier without Asra already. You already miss him. Little did you know that this would be the start of a pattern.

The days without Asra seem to both creep by, and pass in the blink of an eye. The empty air of the shop is still unsettling, so you would talk to Faust, who luckily could hold a conversation, albeit short ones. Oberon would give a little nod or an affectionate kiss here or there, but still no words. The thought really bothered you. How is it that Faust, an animal who isn’t even your familiar, able to communicate with you, but not Oberon, who you’ve befriended years ago? 

You think back to what Asra had said about how he and Faust had formed a deep connection early on. 

“It was like we had already known each other for so long, even just after she had hatched,” Asra had said while smiling at his familiar. 

Wanting to prove your relationship with Oberon, you had piped up about how you had found him when he was young. And while the two of you had come to rely on each other for companionship since then, nothing tangible had seemed to come out of it, like how Faust could communicate with Asra. Even your aunt had said that she could communicate with her familiar.

With knitted brows, you gaze into Oberon’s eyes. Well, no matter. The two of you still share something beyond just a master and pet relationship. 

_ Worried? _ Faust chimes in, looking up at you. 

“Don’t worry about it, Faust. But thank you,” you say kindly, giving her scritches as well. You feel a wave of contentment come off her as you do so.

The day Asra returns, it’s unusually hot despite the cooling weather. His scarf is hanging loosely off his frame while he carries a nice fat bundle of herbs.

“Asra!” you shout, surprised when he opens the front door. You can’t help yourself as you run up to him with a hug.

His laugh is bright and fills the shop. He says your name, which warmly stirs your chest. “It’s good to see you too,” he chuckles, awkwardly returning the hug.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that; you could have dropped something. Here, let me take these,” you offer, looking closer at the bundle in his arms as you take them.

“Thank you.” Asra takes off his hat and scarf, absently tossing them onto the counter. “The ride back was pretty dangerous, so I’m glad to be here in one piece.”

“Was it? What happened?”

“We were accidentally led the wrong way and encountered these weird beetles. I’d never seen anything like them, but they were huge! Luckily there were a few magicians to hold them off while the rest of the caravan got away.”

“Did you get hurt?” You scan his person to look for any sign of injury.

“Nothing more than some scrapes, but one magician did get a nasty gash. We had to stop for a day to get him treated.”

“Wow,” you exhale. You had never really learned how to use magic offensively, so imagining yourself being with Asra on the trip is a little terrifying. 

“Yeah, that and on top of the risk of getting lost, it was a wild ride. Honestly, I’m pretty beat.” He magicks over a chair to sit on.

“Here, I’ll get you some tea; I just made some earlier today.” You step into the back after smiling at Asra’s “thank you”.

“Why was there a risk of getting lost?” you ask as you hand him a warm teacup. 

“The way there is nothing but fields and tall grass,” Asra says after a delicate sip. “We had to travel partly by night, which was exhausting. And boring,” he adds, taking another sip. “You’re just left alone with your thoughts out there, with nothing to look at.”

“Well, I’m glad you did make it back alright.” You turn your attention to the herbs he brought. “You did bring a lot. What’s all in this?”

“There is some yarrow, along with some other grasses and herbs that I’ve heard is good for bringing luck and fortune. There’s other stuff too.” He gets up and divides up what he brought, pointing out ones with healing properties, protection, and augmenting magic.

You hadn’t heard of most of these, and are impressed with Asra’s pickings. “These should make for some great stuff.”

“They should, yeah! I also have a smaller bundle for Muriel. I was going to go see him tomorrow. For now, I think I’m going to take the rest of today and rest.”

“Sounds like a plan.” As if on cue, the door swings open again as a customer enters. You sputter out a quick “oh, sorry!” and quickly sweep everything off the counter top into Asra’s arms before addressing the customer.

And then everything would slowly go back to normal. You would get up, sometimes Asra dragging you up, to prepare some goods before opening the shop. He’d go make a pot of tea that would usually last until lunch, with little teases and pokes here and there. Some days he would have to step out until the shop closes, either visiting Muriel, or taking some time to hone his magic. You would get to join him sometimes, but most of the time he would leave you pouting and having to look after the rest of the shop. One day, you’d get  _ him _ to watch the shop while you go and do something on your own.

But every so often, he would come back after spending the whole day away and be...absent. The usual twinkle in his eye wouldn’t be there, or it would be harder for him to smile. You’d ask him what’s the matter, but he would give some distant answer with a nonchalant wave of his hand. The first few times, you had just been able to brush it off, but eventually you had began to see a pattern.

_ Worry _ , Faust says, twisting and turning.

“Yeah...something’s going on. Has he said anything to you?”

A small wave of disappointment gives you your answer. You frown, crossing your arms to think to yourself. If Faust didn’t know...maybe Muriel? Muriel is Asra’s closest friend, if anyone would know what’s up with Asra, it would be him. But you rarely, if ever, would see Muriel without Asra…

A crash upstairs and quick feet running jolts you out of your thoughts. An excited cheep follows swift paws scurrying up your person. You laugh, about to ask Oberon what’s going on, when Asra finally lands on the last step.

“Is everything ok?” you ask suspiciously. 

“Uh, yeah, we were just playing, hehe,” Asra replies, chuckling a little nervously.

“You better not have broken anything upstairs.” Faust flickers her tongue, as if to say  _ tsk tsk _ .

“Nope! Should be fine. But if anything, it’s his fault.” He squints his eyes at Oberon on your shoulders.

You share a look with Faust before sighing playfully. “Oh, you two…”


	28. Doubtful Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you find yourself more often than not alone with just your thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for the lovely comments you leave, and the kudos you give!!

One morning you awake to the sound of soft footsteps and whispers. Blinking some sleep out of your eyes, you crane your head to look out the window. The sun had barely risen behind the gloomy winter clouds. Days like this make you want to stay in bed, maybe with a nice mug of tea. Asra would agree...but this is a bit unusual.

“Asra?” you gently call out.

Hearing no response, you grab a blanket to wrap around you as you go downstairs. To your unpleasant surprise, you see Asra fully dressed and ready to travel. He looks up at you from his travel pack and your name slips his lips.

“I’m sorry, I was trying not to wake you,” he explains, looking apologetic.

“Asra, what’s going on?”

“I just...have to go. The Magician has me doing some training in their realm.”

“And...that requires you to leave?” Worry and sadness begin to swirl into an uncomfortable knot in your stomach. This would be the third time Asra has left this month.

“I need to go somewhere with more powerful energy. I found a place that I think has a whole spring of energy that would be good.”

“Can I come with you? I’d love to check it out.”

Asra sighs before answering. “Maybe...maybe next time. I need to get the most out of today while I can.”

Feeling dejected, your eyebrows knit together as you glare at the ground, frustrated. A pregnant pause slowly creeps by before you speak up. “Where do you go, Asra? Are you really going to train with the Magician? Or is it something else? Are...are you avoiding me?”

“What--no, no, I would never avoid you,” Asra quickly reassures, approaching you so he could wrap you in a semi-hug. He murmurs your name, which eases the clenching worry in you. “I just...I can’t say. I’m so sorry. I wish I could.”

“...So you aren’t going to see the Magician.” You bury your face into his chest, as if you could will him to stay.

“I...In a way, I am. But please, just trust me, I’m...this has nothing to do with you. I wish I didn’t have to leave so often--”

“Then don’t. Please, just tell me what’s going on. I-I won’t judge--you of all people should know I wouldn’t judge you.” You look up into his anxious, violet eyes.

“I know,” he says soothingly, bringing a hand up to stroke your hair. “I know. I just...I’m sorry. I can’t. But I’ll try to be back as soon as I can.”

Your anxiety threatens to overwhelm you, but you manage to hold back any show of it besides a frown. “Ok...just, please stay safe.”

“I will. I’ll see you soon.” He puts on his hat and turns to go to the door, but not before swiftly turning back around to you and placing a quick kiss on your cheek. Completely thrown off guard, you dazedly raise a hand to place where he had kissed you.

“Soon.” His eyes try to reassure you cheerfully, but are also murky with worry and regret. But you only get to peer into his eyes before the door closes, leaving you standing in a cold shop, with Oberon at your feet.

  
  
  


The days in which Asra is gone are really a tossup for you. Some days, you would feel like you can get through it, you can put on a smiling face and greet customers per usual. Those who asked for a reading would make you falter slightly, reminding you that Asra isn’t here, but you’d quickly recover and apologize to them for his absence. 

Other days, you would struggle to get out of bed. Only because you had to tend to Faust’s and Oberon’s needs would you will yourself to get up and take care of them. Your mind would feel distant, and your body would move mechanically, through the motions. You would do your best to put on a smile for the customers, you really did. But sometimes you just couldn’t do it. 

Why is this so hard? You had worked at this shop before Asra, couldn’t you get through his temporary absence?

But maybe it isn’t that simple. Maybe it’s not even the fact that he’s gone, but he won’t tell you where. He never tells you. It’s always to investigate some magical mystery, or to go with the Magician somewhere. Those excuses had worked at first, but soon you had realized that that’s what they all were -- excuses. There is something else going on that Asra is avoiding. But you’d make him talk, sooner or later. 

Today is another day without Asra, however. He had left a few days ago, in a bit of a rush. You know it isn’t true, but sometimes it really feels like he’s avoiding you. You remember him reassuring you he isn’t, but you can’t shake the feeling.

_ “Asra, you haven’t even been back for a whole week, and you’re already leaving again?” you had said, watching with sad, disbelieving eyes as he shoves things haphazardly into his pack. _

_ “I’m sorry, there’s just something I have to look after--” _

_ “Asra, just say it. Why do you keep leaving? Please, you can tell me anything...you should know that.” Those countless talks in bed with him, sharing anything and nothing...did they mean nothing? _

_ “I know...but this time I can’t. Just--please, just trust me. I’ll be safe, and so will you, it’ll all be fine--” _

_ “Are you avoiding me? Is it something I did?” you say, cutting him off. _

_ “What? No, no, I thought I already said--no, I’d never. Please, this isn’t you, it’s something else.” _

_ “Then what is it?” You’re almost begging at this point.  _

_ Silence hangs heavy in the air as Asra painfully meets your eyes. You feel it, like he’s almost going to talk. The words are so close to just coming out of his mouth… _

_ But he simply shakes his head and puts on his hat. “I’m sorry…” he says quietly, before turning and leaving.  _

You put your head on the counter, staring listlessly at the grooves of the wooden surface. He had sounded like he had told the truth when he said it hadn’t been you. And he had mentioned about being safe...but there hadn’t been any danger here. Had there?

And the kiss on the cheek. The two of you hadn’t really talked about that either. When he had come back after that trip, Asra had acted as if it had never happened, or at least tried to. You would catch his eyes lingering on you, or sometimes his cheeks would redden around you. But you two hadn’t talked about it. What did it mean? You know by this point that Asra is naturally an affectionate person. He’s shared intimate hugs and flirty gestures with you, Muriel, and Nadia countless times. But something about that little kiss had felt different…

You let out a small groan, combing your hand through your hair in frustration. What did all of this mean? Did it even mean anything? Maybe you’re just looking into something that is nothing.

Do you want it to mean something? The thought makes you blush, even though no one is in the shop. Remembering your first days in Vesuvia, you had been jealous as you’d watch kids your age go off to get educations and learn, while you had been stuck in the shop. It had already been hard to make friends since you aren’t a Vesuvian native, but on top of that, you hardly would interact with anyone your age. And even bumping into Asra had been a fluke. If Faust had slithered off to look for a bite anywhere else, you would have never been able to give him your time of day. And now...he’s your closest friend...or...maybe more?

You shake your head, bringing yourself back into the moment. That’s definitely a bit too much for this time of day. Feeling your cheeks warm up, you straighten yourself up and fumble around, trying to find something to do to get your mind off of that line of thought. 


	29. Desert Daisies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things between you and Asra get interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nice 'n long chapter for y'all! Enjoy, and thanks again for kudos and comments :D

Tomorrow is your birthday. 

That’s the first thought you have as you wake up. You turn your head to look beside you at the empty spot. Asra had left a few days ago; you had hinted of your upcoming special day, which you  _ think _ Asra picked up on, but seems like he didn’t.

Taking a deep sigh, you hoist yourself up and out of bed. Your birthday with your aunt hadn’t really been celebrated - she usually would just give you a day off and some extra coins for lunch. It had been nice, of course, to not have to work for a full day, but you didn’t really get to spend it with anyone. You had been hoping that this year would be different, but guess not.

“Morning, you two,” you greet Faust and Oberon right as a yawn forces itself out of you. Rubbing your eyes, you fill the kettle with water for tea. “Guess it’s just us three again, huh.”

_ Asra… _ Faust says gloomily.

“Yeah, wish he were here too.” You pat her on the head before picking out a tea for the morning.

As you start to think about what you want for breakfast, a sudden  _ wham! _ of an opening door nearly makes you jump out of your skin.

“What the--” but you’re cut off by a very familiar voice calling your name. You whip around to the front room only to find--

“Asra!”

There are slight bags under his eyes, but other than that doesn’t look too worse for wear. He gives you a crooked smile as he stands in the doorway.

“Wha--what are you doing here?” you ask, incredulous. Was this a dream?

“I’m here for your birthday, silly. I see you’re trying out a new hairstyle,” he giggles, commenting on your bedhead. With a furious blush, you try to press down your unruly hair. 

“I thought you weren’t gonna be back until later in the week,” you mention, still surprised but very grateful of his early return.

“Well, then I’m glad you didn’t figure out my surprise. Come on, we have to get moving!”

Surprise? You wonder to yourself what in the world it could be before…

“Wait, Asra, not like this, I’m still in pajamas!” you protest as he comes over to take your hand to lead you out the door.

Laughing, Asra simply says, “Well, hurry up!”

You stick your tongue out at him before running up the stairs two at a time. Maybe today is going to be a fun day after all.

~ ~ ~

After quickly slapping a sign up saying the shop will be closed, you and Asra begin to walk north. You’ve already pestered him multiple times on what the surprise is, or where he’s taking you, but his lips are sealed like a stubborn clam’s. 

“So you’re not even going to tell me a single thing about where we’re going,” you state, hands on your hips as you see Asra’s smug smile.

“Well, ok, I’ll at least tell you this. I found this cool place while I was out. So I want to show you.”

That catches your attention. You’re finally going to be joining Asra on one of his mysterious journeys.

“Wow, I never thought I’d actually be going with you on one of these.”

Asra falters. “I-I did tell you I’d bring you along if it’s safe enough.”

“Yeah, but that was months and months ago,” you counter.

The silence is awkward as you two keep walking. Asra doesn’t necessarily make empty promises, but he tends to not follow up on a lot of things he says. So you had always thought those words had just been to placate you at the time.

Wanting to lighten the mood, you smile slyly and ask, “So, where are we going?”

Stubbornly shaking his head, Asra simply says “Nope!” to indicate that his lips are sealed. You let out something between a sigh and a groan.

As you two walk, you notice that the number of vendors and stalls are thinning. The palace stands in the distant, the sun making its towers glimmer.

“Let’s grab a quick bite to eat here,” Asra suggests, steering the direction to a street vendor. He orders for the both of you, and after exchanging the food for a few coins, you’re on your way again.

“There’s actually someone you’ll be meeting today too,” Asra mentions as he munches.

“Oh? Who?”

He hums thoughtfully. “It’s not really--well, it might just be easier when we get to it.”

“Asraaa,” you whine playfully. “Why tell me that if you aren’t going to say anything else?”

“Mostly to tease you,” he quips. You debate on whether or not to steal a bite of his food, but just settle for a good ol’ shove instead.

It’s still early in the day when the two of you reach the outskirts of Vesuvia. The field of grass is expansive, and other than a few lone trees, there isn’t much to see. But Asra just continues on the dirt path, until he reaches what seems to be a huge pile of hay.

“Still sleeping, I guess,” he mutters before carefully poking in the pile.

“Sleeping? Who--” But you’re cut off by an animal’s groaning call.

_ Asraaa. Back so soon? _ You hear a lazy voice in your mind call out, and you dart your head to the pile of hay. It rustles before a shaggy beast crawls out.

“Yeah, sorry about that. It’s a bit of a special occasion,” Asra says apologetically before turning to me. 

“Is this the someone you mentioned?” you ask, slack-jawed. 

Asra stifles a chuckle before introducing you to the beast. It looks at you, eyes obscured by its long fringe almost touching its nose. 

“Put your hand out,” Asra suggests, and you follow what he says. 

The beast cranes its head forward, carefully sniffing your palm. After a moment, it lets out a sneeze which startles you.

_ Two magicians on a journey. Interesting. _ And with that, it gets up and stretches its legs. Asra pats its back before offering you a hand.

“I’ll help you up.”

You simply nod and accepts his help. Once you’re up, Asra gets on behind you. The close proximity makes your cheeks warm. You’re glad Asra can’t see your face.

_ Hold on tight. _ The beast advises before setting off. It starts at a leisurely jog before speeding up to an overwhelming pace. The wind rushes past you, hair everywhere. You hear Asra’s laugh, and your heart soars. You hadn’t heard Asra truly laugh in a long time. The sound brings you to laugh as well.

The fields around you are a blur as you grip tightly onto the beast’s thick fur. Is this how Asra travels to places further away? You had so many questions, but the wind rushing past your ears make it hard for even you to think.

You’re not sure how much time has passed, but sooner or later, the fields begin to thin until there is sparse grass among sand. Up ahead, you see what appears to be a village, and as you wonder where you are, the beast slows down from its blistering pace to a light jog, then to a final stop by a lone abode a bit ways away from the rest of the town.

“Thank you,” Asra says gratefully as he slides off. He gives the beast a fond pat on the nose before giving you a hand down. You take a hold of it, and notice in the back of your mind how warm it is. It’s like a weight has been lifted from Asra, as if he would continue to run and be free.

The beast circles itself a couple of times before getting comfortable, while Asra keeps ahold of your hand and leads you inside. Pushing past the curtained entrance, you look around the cozy place. The warm sunlight illuminates a small living area, kitchen, and a separate bedroom. 

“Is this where you would go on your trips away from Vesuvia?” you asked, unsure why your voice is so hushed.

“Sometimes,” Asra says ambiguously. He gives you a soft smile. “It would depend. I was here about two weeks ago.”

You hum in response. Where would he go the other times?

But your line of thought is interrupted by Asra tugging on your hand again, and him offering you to show the rest of the place. He brings you around to the bedroom before leading you back outside to a garden of desert plants.

“Do you want to help me water them?” he offers, beginning to conjure up some magic.

You brighten up. “Yeah!”

There’s a moment of silence as Asra focuses, but then the spring full of sand by the entrance begins to transform into clear water. You peer into a vase by the door and find it full of sand as well. You concentrate on the feeling of water: the sweat rolling down your spine, the saliva coating your tongue, and the sound of the water Asra just magicked. Then, the sand sighs away to turn into water.

Asra flashes you a smile before the two of you get working to make sure the plants have enough water.

Soon, you feel your stomach start to grumble, and realize it’s well past noon.

“I think it might be time for lunch,” you call out to Asra, who’s at the other end of the garden.

Wiping off his brow, he calls back in agreement. Walking back into the little cottage, you ask Asra if the two of you are going into town for food.

Asra hums as he rummages through the cabinets. “It looks like I have enough here to make us lunch. Why don’t we just relax and do that?”

You saunter up beside him and rest your head on his shoulder. “That sounds great.”

As the two of you cook, it almost feels like everything is back to the way it used to be. You two would work seamlessly to make your late lunch. He even had caught something you had accidentally knocked over. You hope you can hold onto this feeling forever.

Once you two are done, you take a seat at the table, grinning at the success of your culinary magic.

“Why don’t we look around town after lunch?” you suggest after a few bites.

“Uhh,” Asra falters in between chewing. He swallows his food before continuing. “Let’s maybe save that for tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?”

“You’ll see,” is all he says cryptically. You let out an exaggerated groan.

“Really, Asra?” 

“It’ll be worth it. Come on, this is a birthday surprise.”

You pout teasingly before giving in. “Fine, but only because it’s for my birthday.”

~ ~ ~

You blink your eyes to sunlight just barely peeking out from over the horizon line. With a small huff, you turn your head to try and catch a few more winks. Beside you, you’re greeted with the soothing sight of Asra in a deep sleep. You sleepily smile, content that you don’t wake up to an empty bed this morning…

But soon you’re awake when the bed shifts and creaks. You feel like you had only caught a few more seconds of sleep. You get up as Asra gets up from the bed, doing a couple of light stretches.

“What, can’t sleep in on my birthday?” you murmur, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Asra lets out a laugh. “Morning to you too. And no, my surprise unfortunately starts bright and early.”

Start? What in the world is Asra planning?

He manages to coax you out of bed, and you two get ready in comfortable silence, with Asra occasionally humming. When you’re done, he’s waiting for you at the front door. With a quick “ready?” he takes a hold of your hand and leads you out the door and into town.

All the way there, you try to tease out what he has planned, but again his lips are sealed. At least you’re comforted by the fact that if you needed to keep a secret, you could at least trust Asra with it. 

However, you don’t have to wait long to see your answer. As both of you approach town, you see a huge banner at the town’s entrance that says ‘Painted Daisy Festival’, with bouquets of immensely beautiful daisy blooms.

“Ah, welcome!” a greeter by the banner says. They gesture over to use, and puts a wreath of flowers on our heads. Asra’s crown of yellow daisies complement his eyes.

“Asra, wha...what is this?”

“I heard there was going to be a daisy festival, so I thought this all lined up perfectly…” A faint blush tinges his cheeks.

You smile before giving him a hug. But after a moment, you look at him and say, “Don’t think you’re off the hook for this though. I’m still mad you’ve been leaving me out on all your trips.”

Asra simply laughs a bit nervously. 

The morning is mostly full of you finding breakfast, which turns into a seven course meal of sampling several food stalls. You didn’t know cactus could taste good in so many ways.

After you’re sated, you notice that there are games, music, and many different vendors, even some offering furniture and some blowing glass in their very stall. But looking around, you notice something that’s a bit different than anything back home…

“Looks like there aren’t any magicians around?” you ask Asra as you carefully look. No one trying to sell potions or charms, or grab anyone’s attention for a reading, real or fake.

“Yeah, I figured out when I first came here. They actually hadn’t seen a magician in quite a number of years. I helped them out with a few things, and they graciously let me have the little cottage we’re staying in.” Asra gives you a little smile as you two keep walking.

You return his smile with your own, thought a little disheartened. He’s never really disclosed anything from his trips, other than a couple general remarks here and there. What else had he experienced that you don’t know about?

“Wow, look at that!” you say with a grin. A few stalls away, you can see a small line of people waiting to get their faces painted. Almost childishly, you tug on Asra’s arm and drag him over to get both of your faces painted too. You figure it’s your birthday, you can get away with more than usual. 

After a short wait, you and Asra both walk away with daisies and cute accents painted on your faces. 

“She painted us well,” Asra comments with a smile. 

The day continues on at an ambling pace. You enjoy every moment, from watching a few serpent wranglers show off their pack of snakes (“But they hold nothing compared to Faust,” says Asra) to daring Asra to try the spiciest food you could find (“Don’t wipe your eyes!” you warn, as Asra almost touches his eyes with his bare hands to wipe away his tears). You find that there are moments where you think back to the first Masquerade where you met Asra. Just the two of you goofing off and having fun. 

Slowly, the sun starts its descent back down the sky. The leader of the town announces that there will be a dance to kick off the end of the festival. You and Asra glance at each other excited. This really brings back memories of the Masquerade now, of you two dancing in crowded streets where musicians played wherever they could. The palace had been nice, yes, but there had been an energy in the streets of Vesuvia that you remember missing in the most recent Masquerade.

Soon, a rambunctious tune starts out the evening, and slowly people join in a dance. Asra turns to you and dramatically takes a bow, extending his hand. “May I have this dance?”

It takes all your willpower to not to burst out laughing. You take a moment to gather yourself, before placing your hand in his, in an equally dramatic fashion. “You may.”

Asra beams before practically sweeping you off your feet. The music is a bit different, but you can still sense the allegro beat. And almost instantly, you’re transported back to the first night of the Masquerade, where Asra had taught you to dance. 

_ “But Asra, I...I can’t dance,” you say, both anxious and embarrassed. Is he going to judge you? _

_ He simply smiles. “It’s not so hard. You just feel the music and...let your body move.” _

_ It had been awkward at first. It’s as if your upper and lower half had been two separate parts. But gradually, you had begun to sense the rhythm of the music, and eventually found your footing. _

A warm hand grabs yours and decides to twirl you. You let out a small yelp, almost tripping, before leaning into the move. You want to scold Asra for surprising you, but his sly smile brings your heart into your throat. 

Asra had been different this entire day. His mind had wandered more often than normal, and he rarely pointed out things he had wanted to do. You would be worried, if not for the glances he gave you. His eyes would linger a tad more than usual, and his touch made your heart flutter, and your stomach alight. 

As the two of you dance, he steadily brings you closer to him, and you realize the upbeat music transitions into a slower one, probably to give dancers a break. You see couples pairing off and swaying to the music. Asra brings you close, and you’re almost afraid to look into his eyes, but you’re not sure why.

A moment, then two, then three passes...before Asra gently whispers your name.

You turn your head to look up at him. Feeling a hand move from your waist up to your jawline, he gingerly brings you closer to him, and your lips touch in a delicate kiss. You feel yourself freezing, shocked.

Asra slowly pulls away, his thumb fondly caressing your cheek. He whispers your name again.

“I’m...I’m sorry, I don’t know what--actually, I--oh, bother--!” You manage to cut off his rambling with another kiss. It’s a bit awkward, since you had felt your body rush on before you could really think about it, but it still leaves your lips tingling.

You feel like you want to say so many things at once, but nothing seems to want to come out. You’re sure that you’re blushing furiously. Even Asra’s cheeks are a cute pink.

He gathers his composure before you do, and fondly smiles. Deciding to leave words at bay, he simply brings you close and rests his head on yours, gently swaying as the music comes to an end. Flashing you a look, he takes your hand and leads you over to a quieter part of the festival, and sits with you to watch the sun set. Occasionally, he would bring your hand up to his lips and delicately kiss your knuckles, or almost coyly bring your face closer just to kiss the corner of your lips. But each action still sends a wave of affection through you. As the last golden rays wash over the two of you, you let out a contented sigh, thinking this couldn’t get any better.


	30. What Money Can Buy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you wish you had listened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every week i'm touched by your comments (´｡• ◡ •｡`) ♡ thank you guys so much for reading!!

“Asra, could you feed the stove salamander? He almost burnt the table,” you call out as you amble to the front door to get the mail. 

“Didn’t you just feed him?” Asra calls from the back room, surely lounging on some pillows, daydreaming.

You roll your eyes affectionately. “Just get off your lazy butt and do it, or else,” you mock-threaten.

There’s silence as you pick up the envelopes in front of the door. One is from a satisfied customer, detailing how your potion had helped them, which makes you smile. But before even looking at the other one, you can feel the quality of the paper is different, more luxurious.

“Hmm, or else what?” a silky voice murmurs into your ear. You feel Asra’s warm arms loop around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. 

You let out a breath of laughter before turning and kissing his cheek. “Oh, you wouldn’t want to find out, even if you are Asra the great magician.” You poke his side as you jokingly use his colloquial title. Lately his magical feats have been traveling around the streets of Vesuvia, and the baker had once loudly greeted Asra as “the magician”, and that had seemed to stick. Asra had rolled his eyes when he had first heard it, but you think he’s warming up to it now.

Asra chuckles before turning your chin so he could give you a proper kiss. Butterflies flutter in your stomach when your lips meet. He smiles and strokes his thumb over your lips before walking to the back room. “What’s in the mail?” he asks as he grabs some wood, exciting the salamander.

“Oh, just some happy customers,” you lie, seeing that the expensive envelope had been addressed to you exclusively. Usually your patrons know that you and Asra work together. Who would send such a letter only to you?

“It is nice that people send those,” he says as he gives the fiery creature a couple extra pieces so he doesn’t go gnawing on more furniture.

You hum, carefully opening the letter, which has a wax seal on it. The letter is written on equally expensive parchment. Sneaking a look down to the sender, you raise your eyebrows in surprise

It’s signed Count Lucio.

Your eyes dart back up to the top of the letter, and find that he vaguely has invited you to the palace, requesting your “services”, whatever that means. You think back to the night on the balcony, how Asra had pleaded that you stay away from Lucio. That had sounded like something you could do. The likelihood of you, just another ordinary Vesuvian, ever interacting with the Count is unlikely. Yet, here you are.

Quickly hiding the letter in a pocket, your mind is racing. Asra would never let you accept this offer. The scene with him on the balcony is still seared in your mind. But ever since then, Asra hasn’t told you what exactly makes him wary of Lucio. It must be something huge; nothing so simple gets that much of a reaction out of anyone. But what it is, you don’t know.

You come to a resolution. The next trip Asra goes on, you’ll stop by the palace. It’s not that you wish to go against your dear friend, but you know he’ll be going on another trip. Normally, that would frustrate you, but this time, you’re relieved that you can investigate this invite. You’re just going to go to the palace, humor Lucio’s odd request, then say that you can’t come again. Your curiosity is too much to bear.

To your luck, your opportunity comes faster than you expect.

The next week, Asra had to leave the shop for the day, and then a couple days later, he forlornly says he must go away for a few days.

“Another trip with the Magician? Or something else?” you ask, trying to look concerned.

“Hm, a little bit of this, a little bit of that,” he says aloofly, waving his hand. He already has his travel gear, and places his hat on his head.

“This one will be quicker, just a few days. I promise.” He comes close and cups your cheek fondly. He locks his intense eyes onto yours, and you feel guilt building up. It’s just this once, you repeat to yourself over and over.

After a moment, Asra’s lips curl into a gentle smile, and he leans in for a firm, but gentle kiss. One that says he will miss you, but it won’t be for long.

One day is all you need. This will be fine.

You bring your hand up to tuck a stray hair back into his curls and smile. “Be safe,” you murmur. What irony.

Asra steals one more quick kiss. “I’ll be back before you know it.” And with a whirl of his jacket, he walks out the door and is gone.

Tomorrow, you head to the palace, first thing in the morning.

~ ~ ~

You barely hear the charming birdsongs as you walk to the palace. It’s much too early for your liking. But you want to be early, so you can leave early. Just to figure out what all this is.

As you pass the market, it dawns on you that you’ve never actually witnessed the stalls preparing for the day. You had always just been setting up in the shop, or when you did get to see the market, everything seemed to be set for the day. Hopefully the Count would be up this early. He’s in charge of this city after all.

By the time you reach the palace, the sun is peeking from behind low clouds, and casting bright rays over the twinkling towers. Two guards at the gate greet you with a stern warning.

You hastily get the letter with Lucio’s seal and signature, proving your invitation. They take a good, long moment to look it over before one grunts in approval and another signals for the gate to be opened. You give a hesitant smile before rushing inside. You’ve never seen those guards before, but then again, the last couple times you had been at the palace was in Nadia’s care. This is your first time here by yourself.

The chamberlain recognizes you, thankfully, as you wander in through the front doors. He calls your name, and you return with a smile.

“I’m actually looking for Count Lucio,” you inform after they start to lead you to Nadia’s chambers.

“Oh, pardon me for the assumption. He is in his wing having breakfast.” With that, you’re on your way.

You notice as you follow the chamberlain closer to your destination, the decor’s palette gradually incorporates more brilliant reds and shining golds. The hall leading to Lucio’s wing is adorned with self portraits. How humble, you think sarcastically to yourself. 

The chamberlain knocks and informs the Count of your presence, and you hear a confident voice shoo away your guide and allows you to enter.

If you had been surprised by the amount of red and gold, then you take that all back. From the floor to the ceiling, bright reds and sparkling gold blankets anything and everything in the room. Occasional white accent items allow your eyes a break. Off to the side is a small, but still luxurious, golden table where Lucio is seated, dining on fruits and pastries. He looks up from his cup of tea and stands, saying your name as if it’s a breath of fresh air.

“Lovely of you to come and see me. I’m so glad my invitation made it,” he greets with a crooked smile.

“Oh, yes. Did you, erm, need something me?” You try not to seem impatient. But the longer you’re in his side of the palace, the more you’re starting to think this hadn’t been the best idea.

“Ah, yes, I was rather vague in my letter. But come, sit. Have you had something to eat today?” he offers, gesturing to his spread.

You are just about to decline when your stomach decides to let out a sonorous note. Heat spreads across your cheek as you clutch your stomach. Lucio chuckles knowingly.

“Come, sweet, sit and have a bite. I’ll call for some tea.” He saunters to the door as you take a seat, blushing at his casual use of a pet name.

Cautiously grabbing a pastry, you nibble at it, thoughts haywire. Why did you come again?

The Count returns to his seat and takes a sip from his cup. “It is a lovely day today. I’m glad you’re here to share it with.” He gives you a glance under hooded eyes from his cup. Something catches in your throat that isn’t the pastry.

“Y-yes, the walk was pleasant,” you comment, not really sure what to say. You’ve heard so many stories of Lucio’s wild personality, it seems like he just does things suited to his whim.

He hums, setting down his tea. “Perhaps I can give you a small tour of the gardens later.”

You don’t say that you’re already familiar with the space. You’re not sure how much Lucio knows, but the night with Asra on the balcony is stuck in your head on repeat. It’s best to say as little as possible. You reach for some fruit once you’re done with the pastry.

“So, the reason I have called you here,” Lucio starts after examining his golden arm, “is about magic.”

That’s something you had not expected.

“Magic?” you repeat. What would the Count of Vesuvia want with magic? And why you?

“Yes. It seems to me an influential skill to have. I was wondering if you could teach me.” He glances at you again with similar heat from before.

Could teach him. You aren’t sure if that is truly just a request, or an implied order. What would happen if you say no?

“Of course, you will be compensated greatly. It mustn’t be easy running a shop like you have by yourself.”

“Actually--” but you catch yourself, holding a hand up to your mouth. If he doesn’t know about Asra staying with you, then better keep it that way.

Lucio raises a brow at you. You mumble some excuse, looking away, embarrassed. To your luck, he doesn’t press and continues.

“Monetary compensation, and anything else you might need from the palace, will be given to you. Just name your price.”

That also comes as a shock to you. You have so many questions in your mind, making your head spin. Would this just be a one time thing? You doubt it. What does Nadia think of all this? 

“...What happens if I refuse?” you ask quietly, almost afraid of the answer.

Lucio’s composed grin falls slightly. 

“Mm, I do hope it doesn’t come to that. I can offer whatever Vesuvia has to you.” He pauses to see if that settles your question. It doesn’t. So he continues.

“But, if that still isn’t enough...if you still are thinking about refusing the offer, then things may not be too well with your friend, Asra.”

There it is. The threat sugar-coated with money and glamor. The thing that Asra had tried so hard to warn you from, to protect you from. And you had ignored all of it. Your mistake materializes in a dense ball and weighs you down.

Lucio must see some amount of horror dawning on your face, because he laughs and shakes his hand. “Oh but please don’t think about that. That will be an unfortunate, last resort sort of consequence.” He smiles at you, you think, to be reassuring. But any warmth in his expression is invisible to you. All you see are the lips of a treacherous ruler who, with one wave of his hand and a single word, could make your life crumble around you.

You desperately wish you had listened to Asra’s plea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy lunar new year!! i wrote this envisioning Oberon as a fancy rat, so it's his year ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚


	31. A New Ally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you befriend someone in the Palace.

Now it’s your turn to be disappearing from the shop. It isn’t as frequently as Asra, who thankfully has reduced the amount of time he slips away from Vesuvia, trading that time for domestic mornings in the shop, with warm hugs and quick kisses here and there. But now it’s hard for you to look at him properly. You absolutely couldn’t tell Asra what you had done. It would all but break his heart. Some days, and nights, you would sit in bed, or at the counter, imagining how that scenario would go, and none would end well. The night on the balcony would play endlessly in your head, how tears seem to overwhelm Asra. After he had begged you, you had still gone.

Asra, of course, can tell that something has been bothering you. He’s tried to ask a number of times, but each time you either had managed to tell a white lie or had been saved by a customer. 

Lucio would call for your guidance a couple times a month. He had mostly been interested in tarot, which you again find odd, considering that isn’t your specialty. You had tried to tell him that, but he would wave it off.

“I’ve heard so much of your success in magic,” Lucio had said, the first time you suggested he find a better tutor. “Besides, I do rather enjoy your company.” That had stirred something a bit unpleasant in you.

The handful of times you had gone to the palace, you had tried to see Nadia, to at least make your trip not all bad. But you had only been able to see her once. From what the chamberlain had told you, she seems to be keeping to herself more and more, attributing it to headaches and personal matters. It makes you sad that you can’t see your friend.

You realize you had been lost in your thoughts, and you only just come out of it when Asra calls your name for the nth time.

“Are you alright? You seem to be spacing out more than usual,” Asra asks, taking the pestle and mortar from your hands, the herbs in it now a very fine powder. He gently puts a warm hand on your shoulder. His touch grounds you, and you subconsciously let out a sigh.

“I’ll...be alright,” you murmur, leaning into Asra’s chest in a half hug.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Asra offers. You know that you’re always free to say no, but you’ve already said no so many times, you’re surprised he hasn’t pinned you down and gotten the answers from you. But Asra isn’t like that.

“Not right now, the shop still needs tending to,” you say with what you think is an appreciative smile, but you don’t feel it.

Asra doesn’t say anything as he tidies up the work space. “You know, your well-being is more important than the shop. If we need to close it for the rest of today, I think we can afford to do that.”

Stop, you think to yourself. Stop being so...so kind to you. You don’t deserve this.

“No, I think I’m just tired. I didn’t get a lot of rest last night,” you lie convincingly enough. A knock on the door brings you to the front, but all you see is a letter when you open the door. Lucio.

You pick it up and hastily store it in your apron. It’s by sheer miracle that Asra hasn’t seen these yet. Making up something about checking the books, you quietly but quickly rip open the envelope and scan when you should meet him. Once you’ve got it memorized, you crumple it up and sneak it to the salamander.

Next week, you think, already bracing yourself to entertain the Count. 

~~

Your day goes by, one minute after another. Sometimes, you glance at the clock and inwardly groan, seeing as only half an hour had passed. But then you would look again and a flutter of hope would stir, seeing that more than an hour has passed this time.

The cards are reacting unusually today. As you would go through your lesson, each time you pass over a card, sometimes they would be dead silent, which isn’t shocking, since you’re not doing a reading. But every so often, a particular card would practically thrum, sending you wordless messages, and you’re surprised to see that Lucio would never notice. Sometimes you would interpret their messages as feelings, but a couple times, you almost saw clear visions. You would see red, a table, food. But they’re always glimpses, always gone in a blink.

A knock on the door puts a pause in your slow lesson in the Arcanas with Lucio. Miffed, Lucio barks for the person to enter.

A tall man with almost unruly brunette hair comes in. His complexion is pale, and he seems tired, like he could never get a good night’s sleep. He comes carrying a tray with one glass of tea.

“For your headaches, sir,” he offers, hesitantly placing the tray on the table before him, as if he didn’t want to anger the Count.

“Thank you, Jules,” Lucio mutters offhandedly. You lock eyes with the tall man, and an awkward moment passes before Lucio says anything.

“Ah, by the way, have you two met?” he asks before going ahead and introducing you as his tutor to the tea-delivering stranger.

“And this is Doctor Julian Devorak, but I just call him Jules for short.” He gives a quick smirk to Julian, but he doesn’t seem too fond of the nickname.

You give a polite smile and half a bow. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He nods, returning the smile. “And you, as well. Apologies if I interrupted, I’ll take my leave,” he says in an antsy tone before exiting.

The rest of your lesson goes by uneventfully. You notice Lucio keeps getting hung up on the Death and Devil Arcana, which he also usually misinterprets. Something in the back of your mind tingles, like an itch you can’t reach. Something seems off. But the Count always demands attention before you can ponder on it too much.

Once you see the sun setting, you decide to call it a day, to which Lucio thankfully agrees to. It can be a half and half chance as to whether he demands more of your time. Feeling physically and emotionally drained, you gather your cards and tuck them away. Thanking Lucio for his time, even though you feel like it should be the other way around, you open the door and head out.

You let your feet lead you down the hall to leave the palace. At this point, you’re well aware of how to get in and out. But on the way, you spot a familiar, tall figure.

“Oh, Doctor,” you say, catching his attention.

“Ah, hello again,” he returns with a bit of a weary smile. 

“Long day?” you ask with a hint of a chuckle. 

“Afraid so. Lucio can be...a bit of a handful.”

You let out a laugh. “I’ll say.” You catch yourself before you say anything too incriminating, afraid anyone could be listening. Besides, you aren’t sure if Julian is here of his own free will...or if he’s here because Lucio demanded it.

“I didn’t know doctors also serve tea,” you say, wondering why Julian had come specifically to deliver that.

“Usually I don’t, but I had mixed in a medicine for him. Hopefully it works…”

“Hopefully?” You would think doctors would have a bit more confidence.

A bit sheepish, Julian laughs it off. “Ah, no, I mean, it will work, of course. Didn’t become the Count’s official doctor for nothing!”

You raise your eyebrows, but don’t say anything. “Well, it’s getting late, I should head out. It was nice chatting with you, Julian.”

“Uh, w-wait,” he stutters, reaching for you. You stop and look back at him. “Um, my closer friends, they...they call me Ilya.”

You smile wider at him. “Alright then, I’ll see you around, Ilya.”

The two of you part ways for the night. It feels good to know another familiar face in the palace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews might be a little slower from here on out, but I appreciate all your kudos and comments!! They really make my day (* ^ ω ^)


	32. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you confess your secret to Asra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience everyone ⊂( ´ ▽ ` )⊃ I just needed a bit of time to get my notes together for the last few chapters of this fic. Thanks so much for your kudos and comments, they are like oatmeal...they sustain me (っ˘ω˘ς )

On a day you’re giving Lucio another lesson, he interrupts suddenly to invite you to accompany him to a duel at the Coliseum.

“But, why not Na--the Countess?” you ask, catching yourself. You’re still not sure how much Lucio knows about you, Asra, and Nadia, and the less he knows, the better.

“She’s probably not going to be feeling well, knowing how much her headaches have flared up recently,” he comments, almost waving a hand as if it’s a nonissue. It takes some effort to keep a neutral face. “Besides, she usually doesn’t go with me; she doesn’t find them to be tasteful.” He shrugs, as if to say she doesn’t know what she’s missing.

You bite your lip. Asra makes a point to avoid the Coliseum, saying how the “games” there are barbaric and boorish. Once he had explained what the main event consists of, you had been turned off at the idea of attending. But you can’t help and wonder what the games are like, and why the citizens of Vesuvia always seem to enjoy them.

Besides, this may not even be an offer at all. Looking at him, you don’t detect any sort of threat, but you never know with the Count. So against your judgment, you accept.

He enthusiastically tells you the date and time, and offers a carriage to pick you up. You decline, not wanting to raise suspicion with Asra, and say you’ll just arrive early at the Coliseum. Lucio agrees and says he’ll have an escort waiting.

~~

The town is humming with excitement over the battle that’s to be held today. According to rumors, it seems that the Scourge of the South is to make another appearance. The name is only familiar to you as an intimidating figure in the arena. From what you gather, he seems to be an executioner for Lucio, and a successful one at that. You overhear one conversation while getting breakfast.

“I hear the opponent might actually give the Scourge a hard time, heard he used to be a pirate,” a fruit stand owner says.

“Nonsense, nothing can overcome the Scourge of the South! He’s never lost, why now?” an adjacent legume enthusiast counters.

If the Scourge really is to represent Lucio, then there’s no way he’d let him lose.

Since most, if not all, of the citizens will be congregating at the Coliseum today, you and Asra agree to take it easy for the day, maybe even close up shop when the games do begin. 

“We could practice some magic,” he suggests. Then he gives you a sly look. “Or practice something else.”

His suggestive comment sends a furious blush to your cheeks. So many emotions fill you, it feels like you’re going to burst. 

“A-Actually, I have to get going. I, um, said I would meet a client to look at a spell. I should be back by the time the games are over, though. I can pick up some bread on the way,” you offer, hoping the bribe of baked goods distracts him from questioning you further.

For a moment, you feel your stomach sink as Asra doesn’t respond. But a second later, he perks up with a smile and simply says, “Sure thing! I’ll be waiting for you.” The fondness in his voice almost makes you tell everything to him. Almost.

You gather your things to go to the Coliseum, and bid adieu to Asra. He skips over to give you a quick kiss before you leave. You simultaneously feel giddy and nauseous.

The streets are like a river, all flowing to the giant stadium by the town square. Its currents get tougher to navigate the closer you get. But once you do arrive at the entrance, a guard flags you over.

“The Count is waiting for you in his box. This way, please,” he says, leading you to a separate, private route.

When he opens the curtain to Lucio’s box, you can easily tell it’s the best seat in the house. The din of the crowd is dampened, and any sound from the main arena would be heard clearly, and seen clearly. The view is almost too perfect. You hope you have the stomach for this.

Lucio turns and waves you over to an empty seat adjacent to him. A servant appears out of thin air and offers a glass of wine. You almost refuse it, but then you think it might help your nerves. So instead, you smile and accept it. The pleasant buzz comforts you slightly.

Before the main event, preliminary matches of animals and soldiers take to the stage. They aren’t fatal, save for the possibility of a panther almost killing a cheetah, and the winner simply has to render the opponent immobile.

But then, you can feel the crowd’s excitement build like a wave as Lucio stands to introduce the main act.

“And now, enter the convict to stand trial!” he announces, his golden arm gleaming in the sunlight.

The crowd boos and jeers as the rough looking man enters from one end of the arena.

“He will be facing justice against the one, the only, the Scourge of the South!”

The booing immediately switches to primal cheers and shouts. As the Scourge enters, you feel dread and unfiltered shock rise up in your throat in the physical form of bile. It takes all your strength and energy to not throw up in the grandiose box that Lucio had invited you to. You try to breathe deeply, try to tear your eyes away from what you see, but you can’t seem to do it.

Before you, in the dusty pit of the Coliseum, is Muriel, long hair tangled and matted, body littered with scars, and holding a weapon, getting ready to execute the prisoner in the ring for other’s entertainment. The crowd yells disgusting encouragements, which only makes you want to vomit harder.

How long could you stay like this? You didn’t want to give anything away. But you couldn’t stay here as well. You could feel tears welling up. Oh gods, how long could you stay here?

But even as that thought continues to loop in your mind, you find that the minutes crawl by faster than you think. You first think to yourself, maybe the first five minutes, then the next five, then the next three. And before you know it, it’s almost over. Muriel has the victim all but cornered, when an intermission is called. That’s when you make your leave.

“Count Lucio, I’m so terribly sorry,” you whisper, “but I’ve just been overcome with a terrible bout of nausea. I think I may have to excuse myself.”

“Oh, dear, shall I call for an escort back to the palace?” Lucio asks, shifting to get a better look at you. But the last thing you want to see right now is the man who condemned Muriel to this fate.

“No, no, I should be fine. I think I just want to retire to my abode today. Thank you.” 

You try to sound gracious, but you’re honestly not sure if you succeed. But at this point, you feel the bile rushing to the front of your throat, and you stand, covering your mouth in case the worst happens. You nod to Lucio before rushing out of the Coliseum and back to the shop.

It all makes so much sense, you think to yourself on the way back. Muriel had been absent almost half the times Asra or you had tried to visit. He had become more distant, and desired to only stay in the forest if you saw him at all. Any mention of Lucio had seemed to chill him to the bone. Then you think of the night Muriel had stumbled back, wordlessly throwing up right in front of you and Asra…

As the pieces come together, you stop and dry heave, holding onto a random building for support. Luckily, nothing comes up, but you spit out the bile in your mouth for good measure. Not too far now. 

It takes all your strength to make the last leg, then to shove open the front door of the shop. Once you’re in, you promptly close the door and shut all the curtains, putting the lamp out.

“Wha-what’s going on?” Asra calls, stumbling into the front of the store.

You can’t find any words, so you just stumble into his arms, teary-eyed. He whispers your name, first in shock, then concern, then finally to soothe you. 

A few fat tears slide down your cheek and onto Asra’s shirt. You cling to him like a lifeline. He doesn’t press for now, only whispering your name into your hair, holding you close to him. You feel his heart beating, which eventually calms you.

The horror in your chest now wilts away and shame replaces it, its roots threatening to overwhelm you. You muster the strength to look up at Asra’s eyes.

The look of worry and unconditional affection almost knocks the wind out of you, as well as trigger more tears. You don’t deserve this. There’s no way. How could you ever be deserving of something so kind and wonderful.

“Asra,” you croak out, voice hoarse. You feel his warm hands tighten ever so slightly, partly to encourage you and partly to hold you closer. You can feel hot tears welling up again.

“Asra. I...I did something horrible.” Words bottleneck in your throat and you take a second to sort them out. Asra simply strokes your hair, ever so patiently waiting for you. 

When you don’t speak for a bit, he gently asks, “What did you do?”

You shake your head. Oh gods, how could you? “Asra...I...I received an invitation from...from Lucio, some time ago. And...and I accepted it...”

Then the words wouldn’t stop. You told him of Lucio’s request to learn about magic, about how he had threatened you with his safety and well being if you had chosen to refuse the Count’s offer. How you had realized what you have done, and that you had nothing but hate towards the man who’s supposed to be ruling Vesuvia and her people. How his eyes hold not a drop of warmth, and that you’re afraid to refuse anything he says, in fear of hurting the person you care about the most. All the while, you feel Asra tensing up.

“Asra,” you murmur into his shirt. “Asra, I’m so sorry. You even told me, and...and I ignored it. I’m so so sorry, I wish I could take it all back.” You sniff, then clear your throat. You can’t bring the energy to look into Asra’s eyes now. But he still holds you tightly.

“But...I saw something...horrible today,” you whisper, and then more words are tumbling out of you. “Asra, I saw...in the Coliseum, Lucio had invited me today, and...Asra, I saw Muriel. He was there, standing in as...as Lucio’s executioner. Gods, I felt like I wanted to vomit, I couldn’t stand it. I don’t know how, but Asra, we have to save him. We have to rescue him.”

Silence hangs in the air after your plea. You keep thinking that Asra’s going to say something, but he’s still.

“Asra...please, we have to help Muriel. I know you must hate me but--” 

Then he overwhelms your words with a furious hug. As if he can shield you from anything terrible ever happening to you again if he tries hard enough. He murmurs your name again.

“No, please don’t ever think that. I could never hate you. I could never want to hate you.” He releases you enough so you can meet eye to eye. You’re surprised to see tear tracks on his cheeks. He brings a hand up to caress yours.

“That night on the balcony...I was so afraid that Lucio would use you to hurt me or Muriel...that he would do unspeakable things with you. I had begged you to stay away from him, but I know now that, no matter how hard anyone can run, Lucio will always find a way to anyone. It’s not your fault. It never was your fault.” He takes a moment to look at you with warm eyes. “I’m sorry if you’ve been bearing this alone. That night, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry.” He whispers his words, which threatens to overwhelm you with tears again.

“I just...didn’t want to disappoint you…” you say in a hushed voice. You look away from Asra’s face again, unable to bear his gaze.

Asra murmurs your name before gently guiding you into a hug. “You could never disappoint me…I love you.”

You gasp and you feel as if you’re having an out of body experience. Despite yourself, you look up into Asra’s violet eyes, shimmering with unshed tears.

What had you done to deserve this?

Tears again flow freely as you bury your face into his warm chest. “I...I love you too,” you manage in between hiccups. You can’t remember the last time you felt this overwhelmed with emotion.

Asra envelops you in an immense hug, as if trying to quell all your worries. Between more hiccups and sniffling, you keep uttering those three magical words over and over, wanting to commit this moment into memory.

Then, you feel a gentle hand guide your face up towards his, and lips meet yours. He kisses you repeatedly, his salty tears mingling with yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, never wanting to let go.

As the moment comes to an end, Asra leans his forehead against yours, slightly breathless.

After a pause, he whispers, “I’ve been wanting to say that for so long…”

Your heart leaps. Speechless, you bring him into another tight hug.

He returns your embrace, before muttering, “I...I had suspicions about Muriel’s disappearances...but this is worse than I could ever imagine.”

You look up at him. “What are we going to do?”

Gentle warmth gives way to determination in Asra’s eyes. “We’re going to get him out, of course. If you’ll help me.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He presses a kind, but firm kiss on your forehead. 

“I actually think I have a way into the palace without being caught,” you suggest, after relishing in his physical affection.

“I...do too. What’s yours?”

“What’s yours?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave your thoughts, this chapter honestly made me all warm and mushy inside (//ω//)


	33. Probing the Palace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the three of you assess the situation.

It must be more than sheer coincidence that Asra knows Ilya. It’s a silver lining in this entire mess. But you don’t ponder on it for long.

The two of you had been able to track down the doctor in a seedier part of Vesuvia, at the Rowdy Raven. Seeing the tavern’s sign, it sends unpleasant memories of your late aunt, and a shiver down your spine. But you push the thoughts back. Now is not the time to reminisce.

With the sun setting behind the buildings and twilight bringing a cool breeze, the patrons of the establishment are steadily coming in. The inside isn’t quite boisterous, but definitely vibrant with conversation and a tune in the background from the piano. It doesn’t take long for you to scan the area before you see Ilya’s signature hair. Tugging at Asra’s elbow, you point to a booth in the back, where the doctor is chatting amicably with a couple other patrons.

“...and I swung at the man, but he skillfully dodged, and--oh!” Ilya stops telling a very intense story when he sees the two of you heading his way. He quickly excuses himself from his small audience.

“Well, hello, you two,” he says a bit awkwardly, and with a flush. “I, erm, didn’t know you knew each other.”

Asra pointedly puts an arm around you, bringing you close. “We know each other very well,” he responds, a flirtatious glint in his eye when you glance up at him. Now you’re blushing with Ilya.

Something clicks in the doctor’s mind, and he quickly offers his table. “Would either of you like a drink? I do recommend the Salty Bitter.”

Not in the mood for anything, you decline. “Besides, we’re here on a rather pressing matter,” you say in a more somber tone.

You and Asra take a seat opposite Ilya, and succinctly relay what you had discovered from your visit to the Coliseum.

“Hm, so you want to help rescue the Scourge…” Ilya says pensively, a hand on his chin.

“His name is Muriel,” Asra says, clearly anxious of having that title associated with his closest friend.

Ilya simply nods before saying, “And how do I factor in?”

“Well, surely you know the palace better than we do. We’d want to sneak in and out as fast as possible. Besides, it’s not like Muriel is kept in...the Coliseum, right?” you ask, not sure if you want to hear the answer.

“Mm, I doubt it actually. I think I remember Lucio saying that the Scou--er, Muriel--has some sort of residency at the palace. But where, I can’t say…”

“We can’t just go in blind,” Asra says worriedly.

Ilya glances at Asra, and sees his anxious expression. “Well,” the doctor says, clearing his throat. “I would be glad to try and do some reconnaissance for you, to see where he could be. It shouldn’t take more than a few days.”

You light up. “Ilya, that’d be wonderful. That way we can plan accordingly.”

Asra agrees, and the two of you say to meet at the shop after hours when the taller man has all the information he needs. Ilya simply nods and says he’ll see you two soon. You sincerely thank him before heading out with Asra. By the time you leave, the moon is already out.

~~

Ilya likes to think he’s a simple man with simple dreams. Well, he guesses that would depend if one would think owning a ship and sailing the seas simple. But to be free, with a reliable crew, and the wind at his back. That’s all he wishes for.

He doesn’t really remember how he had gotten wound up in Lucio’s nonsense.

Sure, there have been plenty of times in which the man had danced with trouble, sometimes fairly intimately. But this...finding a man--no, a boy really--to fight and ultimately kill for him...it crosses lines. 

Ilya had only heard of outrageous tales of Lucio’s past, sometimes when Nadia has had one glass too many, or from one of the courtiers. But it’s only recently that he’s starting to get a full grasp of what kind of man is under his care.

Taking a deep breath, he thinks back to Dr. Satrinava and their motto. Doctors aren’t to play judge and jury, but to save lives. It isn’t Ilya’s place to be judging his patient. And yet…

“Jules, can you call a servant or two on your way out? I think my arm needs to be buffed again,” Lucio calls with a hint of a whine. 

“Y-yes, sir,” he stammers in return, jumping out of his thoughts. 

“Oh, and while you’re at it, can you just go and check up on the Scourge? He had a nasty bout the other day, don’t want him permanently injured,” Lucio asks while examining his nails.

Ilya mumbles an “of course” and leaves before Lucio can say anything to him.

He catches two servants and informs them of the Count’s needs with a grimace. But they keep a professional face and leave to attend to him.

Well, it seems like luck is on his side today. Lucio had never really asked him to check up on his executioner, so this indeed must be of some concern. Hopefully he can quickly remedy it, get this information to Asra, and conclude this matter. Well...he would like to see Asra again…

“Doctor?” a guard’s low voice almost makes him jump out of his jacket. How he got down here so fast is a mystery.

“A--wha--hrm, yes, hello,” Ilya stumbles, a bit embarrassed. “Yes, I’m here to check up on the Scourge. The Count told me he had quite a nasty day.”

“Very well,” the guard replies monotonically. He opens the gates to the hall of dark cells.

Ilya nods before taking strides to the very end. In the dim torchlight, he can already see the hulking figure of the Scourge--Muriel--bent over in the cell.

It takes some self control to keep a professional front, and not wince. He could see scars, both fresh and old, that were scattered over his body. A few fresh wounds catch his eye, especially one on his forehead. 

“The Count sent me to take a look at you,” the doctor states as the guard comes up and begins to unlock the cell.

“If Lucio sent you, I want nothing to do with you,” Muriel grumbles, voice like gravel.

Ilya nods to the guard in thanks as he swings open the door. “Nonsense, you need the medical attention. Don’t want to hinder your next performance.”  _ Don’t want you to die before we can get you out, _ he thinks to himself.

If he didn’t know any better, Ilya would have thought Muriel had just growled at him. “Stay back,” the hunkered man warns defensively.

Letting out a small breath of exasperation, Ilya puts his hands on his hips. “Now don’t be ridiculous, stay still while I take a look at you.”

As he kneels to get a better look at the wound, Muriel suddenly lunges. Surprised, Ilya can do nothing but shuffle back after landing on his backside.

“I said, stay away,” the injured fighter warns through gritted teeth. It sounds final to Ilya.

Ilya takes a better look at Muriel. Dried blood mats his hair, and the damp air seems to soften any scabs forming. Surprisingly, there aren’t any red flags for infection.

Getting up, he dusts off himself and signals the guard to close the cell door again. He wants to say something, but in that moment he doesn’t trust himself. The only thing he does before turning to leave is meet the lonely green eyes, hooded by the shadows of his fringe.

~~

A knock as you’re double checking your books almost makes you spill your inkwell. Steadying your hand, you rush over to the front door. Asra pokes his head out from behind the counter floor, pausing weaving charms.

“Ilya!” you gasp. Covering your mouth, you wave him into the store.

“Ilya, any news?” Asra asks, getting up. Worry clouds his violet eyes.

“I saw him,” he says without preamble. You hear Asra inhale sharply.

“How...how is he?” the magician asks.

“...I’ve seen worse,” Ilya says after a beat. “He wouldn’t let me get close to him. Lucio had sent me to see his injuries.”

Worry quickly melts to disgust at hearing his friend is injured. “So he really is hurt.”

“I tried, Asra, I did. But he wouldn’t let me near him,” the doctor insists. You detect something in his voice, like he doesn’t want Asra to be mad at him.

“Well, time to make a plan,” you say, wanting to break any further tension. Won’t do any good for anyone to sulk at one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience!! I'm so close to being done, but I keep rewriting because I want things to come together nicely. I've also been having a few changes in my day to day life, so had to focus on that for a bit! But again, thank you so much for reading. I can't wait to hear what you think!


	34. Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the three of you find Muriel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to AO3 user Wanderer for letting me know I accidentally posted the previous chapter twice here. it's been updated to be the correct chapter, as of 03.10.2020. happy reading!

Crickets chirp under moonlight as you quietly shut the back door to the shop. Taking a sideways glance at Asra, you both nod to each other solemnly.

Tonight is the night you will be rescuing Muriel. The rising moon is near full, but a good number of clouds obstruct her shine onto the streets. 

You and Asra then head out, avoiding the guards and sneaking towards the palace to meet Ilya.

The guards are easy enough to avoid, as long as your timing is right and your steps are light. But it takes you two longer than normal to reach the palace. By then, the moon has made good progress into the night sky.

Once you reach the gates, you and Asra tiptoe towards the secret servants’ entrance that Ilya had discovered. You keep a lookout, but Asra quickly cracks open the entrance, enough for you and him to squeeze through.

You immediately notice movement in your peripheral vision, and find a dark hand waving you over. A flash of unruly, auburn hair confirms that it’s Ilya.

“Glad you two made it,” he whispers once the three of you are hunkered behind some lush shrubs. He himself looks a bit awkwardly scrunched to the ground, which would make you laugh if this were under any other circumstance.

“Took a little maneuvering, but we got here,” you say in a hushed voice, excited, but somber. 

Ilya looks like he’s about to say something else, but quickly shuts his mouth once the three of you hear the simultaneous clinking of the guards’ boots. Holding your breath, you’re confident that you’re all hidden well, but no one moves a muscle until the soldiers make their rounds and retreat back to the path they came from. Only then do you quietly exhale the breath you held.

Not wanting to risk anything, Ilya simply signals to follow him, and he got up, almost like an accordian unfolding, and silently walks over to a more covert servant’s entrance to the garden. He opens it, and then the two of you follow him into the palace.

It’s darker inside, which is fitting. But there are still occasional lamps and lanterns lit along the hallways, for the guards, and the rare servant, should anyone need anything. Now that the three of you are inside the palace, with marbled walls and tall ceilings, none of you risk speaking. A mere whisper could bounce around and land into the ear of anyone passing by.

You’re not sure how much time has passed since coming into the palace, as you follow Ilya’s quiet steps from one dark spot of a hallway to another, slipping into a room here or there. It’s almost so silent you’re sure that your heartbeat is being echoed off the palace walls. Something in your mind thinks this is all odd. At this point, you’ve been in the palace as a guest for a number of times, but now you’re sneaking in...it feels wrong in a number of ways.

Your line of thought is abruptly cut off when you smack your face into Ilya’s back. Grabbing your nose in pain, you look up at the tall man, whose eyes are wide with shock.

“...tess, I can go retrieve the doctor for you. No worries. I’ll bring him to your quarters. In the meantime, I’ll have someone bring you some tea,” a servant says soothingly, voice echoing slightly off the walls.

“Thank you, Elena. I’m afraid tonight has been a bit more painful than previous nights,” Nadia’s voice replies. 

You glance back at Asra, who meets you with wide eyes. Out of everyone, you hadn’t expected to run into Nadia at this hour.

_ What do we do?  _ you mouth to Ilya, turning back to face him.

He returns with a panicked look, extremely unsure of himself, but also very aware that someone is going to find him gone from his room in the palace if nothing happens.

You look back to Asra again, who looks to be thinking of something, anything, to help. But then the footsteps of the servant grows louder, and you realize that she’s heading this way to find the doctor.

There’s a moment of silence that may have lasted for seconds or hours, but right as you can see the growing shadow of Elena, Ilya decides to make a move.

“Oh! Doctor, I was just looking for you,” Elena gasps, shocked by Ilya’s sudden appearance.

“Ah, yes, I couldn’t help but overhear. I had woken up for a bit of air before heading back to bed,” the doctor replies smoothly, as if he hadn’t harbored in two other people into the palace.

“Doctor Devorak, how fortuitous,” Nadia says, approaching him as well. Now you and Asra can see the shadows of all three figures. A drop of sweat rolls down the back of your neck.

“I heard that you have had some headaches again tonight, Countess?” Ilya asks gently.

“I’m afraid so. I was wondering if you had anything to remedy it, at least for tonight.”

“Hm, well I certainly do. But we must chat again if this keeps happening. Could be something more than just headaches. Here, let us go to my quarters, I have something that you can mix into your tea for tonight.”

“You have my thanks, doctor,” Nadia says warmly before following Ilya down the hall to his room.

You feel the most tense you’ve ever felt when you feel the tiny  _ whoosh _ on your face of Ilya’s coat, followed by Nadia and her luxurious nightgown. Luckily, Ilya directs Nadia’s attention from where you and Asra are with light chatting. Not moving a muscle, you follow with your eyes the two of them as they disappear around a corner. Elena then turns and leaves, footsteps receding from you. 

Even though the footsteps have now long receded, you and Asra barely move to breathe. But slowly the tension from your muscles melts, and you relax into a more comfortable, crouched position.

_ What should we do? _ you mouth to Asra, a little anxious. Even though it’s night, you’re not sure that someone else won’t appear.

Asra scans his surroundings, trying to see as much without exposing himself too much. 

_ There’s a room,  _ he mouths after his short investigation. He points a finger down the hall to the right. You nod once to show you understand, and together, after double checking that the halls are silent, you two rush to the room. You thank the palace’s wonderful staff for keeping the doors in check, as it opens without a sound. Once you hop in, Asra follows, and quietly closes the door.

You allow yourself to let out a small sigh of relief. 

“That was way too close,” Asra murmurs, putting a hand on your waist as he looks around the room. It seems to be another parlor, with windows facing some part of the palace grounds you haven’t seen yet.

“I hope Ilya can find us,” you mutter, anxiously leaning into Asra’s chest. His warmth grounds you from the soul-stopping scene in the hallway.

“He will, and our plan will work, and we’ll get Muriel out and home,” Asra replies, holding you close. He kisses your hair for comfort, but you aren’t sure if his words were meant to reassure you or himself.

Not wanting to risk anything, you two stay together in a corner of the parlor, holding hands and waiting for the tall doctor to appear. Pure silence accompanies you, as the minutes slowly tick by. Part of you is now very bored, but another part is just getting more anxious. What if Ilya is looking for them right now? What if Lucio had suspected something, and caught the doctor? Or what if--

A sudden noise distracts you. From the corner of your eye, you see the door open. At the same time, you feel Asra tense up beside you. He tightens his hand in yours, and you prepare for the worst.

But the worst doesn’t come. In fact, quite the opposite.

“There you two are!” Ilya says in a hushed voice. He quickly closes the door and takes long strides over to our corner.

“What took you so long?” Asra asks, bolting up. His voice has a hint of annoyance, but mostly worry. 

“Ah, my quarters are actually in the opposite wing from here, so it was a bit of a stroll. And then, I had to figure out where you two took cover. But luckily my intellect came in handy.” He flashes a proud grin, which makes you smile. The tension eases a bit between the three of you.

“Well, I’m glad you found us,” you say, standing up with Asra’s gracious help. 

“Shall we go?” Asra asks. His jaw is set, anxious but determined.

You and Ilya nod, and you slip open the door. Not a sound is heard in the halls. You crack open the door further, just enough for the three of you to slip out. Asra closes the door soundlessly as he steps out.

Ilya takes the lead once more, and the anticipation returns to the air, hanging like miasma would in a morgue.

The three of you are extra careful, always treading lightly, and always checking twice, even thrice, before making any turns or quick movements. But nothing stirs, and no one but the candlelit shadows accompany you. Then, Ilya makes a motion to stop walking. Turning to an empty wall with nothing a palatial tapestry hanging, he delicately lifts up a corner of the tapestry and presses his palm against a specific brick. Suddenly, the tapestry shudders, and the wall opens up a passageway just big enough for the three of you to go single file. The torches lining the staircase below casts an eerie light, much different than the warm candles in the main halls of the palace.

“This is a short cut to the dungeons,” Ilya murmurs, motioning for the two of you to hurry in. Asra, eyes wide in fascination, steps in first. You quickly follow, and Ilya trails behind, shutting the entrance behind him.

“Does this just go down straight to the dungeons?” you ask, voice still hushed despite being in the palace walls now.

“Yes. If I’m not mistaken, this is one of the ways the Count would check up on the S--Muriel,” Ilya explains, correcting himself.

Asra is uncharacteristically quiet, but you can’t really blame him. Finding out that your closest friend had been suffering for so long can’t be easy to take in. You quicken a couple of steps so you’re right behind him, and offer your hand in support. He tenses before gratefully grabbing onto you. You can feel the tension and anxiety within him. You give his hand a light squeeze.

The air gradually gets colder, signaling that you are indeed going into the depths of the earth. Soon, you can see a light layer of condensation on the walls, and the stairs come to an end. In front of you is a plain wooden door. On the other side, you can hear the faint rattling of chains.

Ilya squeezes in front of both of you and puts his hand on the door. He looks back at us and gives us a look, as if to ask “Are you ready?”. We both nod in response. After a breath, he gently opens the door.

The air is stale and musty. The few torches on the walls give just enough light to see where you’re going. Asra’s hold on your hand grows tighter as you keep passing empty cells. You can see his head darting to and fro, looking for the familiar, hulking figure. While you do try to look as well, you can’t help but worry for Asra, and what his reaction will be. You hope you three can rescue Muriel safely and smoothly. 

“Muriel!” Asra gasps before releasing his hold on your hand, running over to a cell at the end of the dungeons. The magician grips at the bars and looks in desperately.

“Asra?” you hear a gravelly voice croak from the cell. Anger and worry flood your body, swirling like oil and water. 

“Wh-what are you doing here?” Muriel asks between coughs. His voice sounds dry, like he hasn’t drank in days. You’re scared to look into his prison.

Chains bind his ankles and wrists together. One huge collar-like contraption keeps him from moving in the cell. His hair is beyond unkempt, and you feel like there have been more scars since you last saw him in the ring.

“Muriel, don’t worry, we’re getting you out,” Asra manages to say, voice cracking. You hear tears in his words.

Ilya silently comes and unlocks Muriel’s cell. The lock clicks open audibly, and Asra wastes no time in throwing the door back and rushing to his friend, enveloping him in a hug.

“Muriel, are you ok? Are you hurt? Why haven’t you been telling me what’s going on?” Asra asks desperately, tears freely falling now.

“Asra--no, you’re not supposed to be here! You can’t--Lucio, he--he promised--” but the prisoner flinches when Ilya steps in.

“Easy now, I’m just here to undo the chains. May take a minute, I doubt the guards use the same keys to open the door as they do these.” To show good faith, Ilya raises his hands, showing the key he had nabbed from the guards and a lock pick set.

Muriel, still uneasy, eyes Asra, then you.

“It’s ok, really, he’s helped us,” Asra explains, wanting to ease his friend so they could all escape. You nod in agreement.

Eventually, he calms down, and Ilya gets to working on the chains. “The guards should be switching shifts right now, so we don’t have much time,” he explains under his breath as he gets to undoing the locks.

“W-why are you all here?” Muriel asks again, dazed from what’s happening.

“We’re here to rescue you,” you explain gently. “I--I saw you...in the ring. Lucio, erm, invited me, and...well, I couldn’t do nothing.”

“You--” you could see so many things swirling in Muriel’s mind. But for now, he seems to settle on one fact. “No, you three can’t be here! If--if he finds out that you tried this, then Asra, he’s going t--to...to hurt you!”

“It doesn’t matter, we’re getting out. You don’t deserve this,” Asra gasps, not believing what he’s hearing. 

“H-he said that--that if I didn’t do this...he’d hurt you…” Muriel mutters.

“Don’t listen to anything Lucio has to say. He told me--” but Asra catches himself before continuing. He looks back at you briefly. “He threatened me with your life if...if I didn’t act as he wanted,” he finishes under his breath.

Seems like everyone has had an unfair encounter with the Count.

Suddenly you hear a click, and chains being undone off the wall. “Alright, let’s get out of here. We can get rid of the rest once we’re out,” Ilya says urgently. Explanations would have to wait.

Ilya checks the coast, then chaperones everyone back to the secret entrance. You’re surprised that Muriel can fit, but glad ultimately.

Asra sticks to Muriel like a fly to honey, afraid that if he even look away once, his friend would disappear. You lead the way as Ilya keeps an eye at the back. 

When you reach the entrance into the hall, you open the door as quietly as possible. You pause once you have enough space to peek out, and find the halls as empty as they were when you three had first arrived. Looking back to your companions, you nod once before opening the door as wide as it could go, to accomodate Muriel.

Asra ushers Muriel to the shadows of the hall, and you wince as you hear his chains clink against the floor. It’s the dead of the night now, servants can’t simply be up at this time, right?

Ilya then takes the lead and motions to quickly follow him, sacrificing stealth for speed. You guess he had noticed Muriel’s chains, and figure he could do little for the noise they would make.

The four of you rush from shadow to shadow, Ilya in the lead and you bringing up the rear. You make frequent glances behind you to make sure that you’re not being followed.

It seems to take half the time it took to get to the dungeon to get back to the palace exit you and Asra came through. But just when you allow yourself to start to feel the cool rush of relief, your stomach sinks as you hear two sharp barks echoing through the halls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always thank you so much for reading!! looking forward to your kudos and comments <3


	35. Escaping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which all four of you bump into some trouble escaping the Palace.

Despite your terror, you turn just enough to see Lucio’s two hunting dogs, moonlight shining off their pale fur. Their red eyes seem menacing in the muted light.

“Oh no…” Asra breathes. In that one word, you can hear all his fears, all his worries.

You inch yourself further away from them, wanting to urge everyone else to run while you try to hold them off. Never in your life would you want to hurt an animal, but this may have to be an exception.

But the two dogs quickly perceive what you’re doing, and growl at you, baring their teeth. That freezes you in your spot. 

You hear Ilya curse behind you.

“What do we do?” Asra hisses.

You muster the strength to look back at Asra and Muriel. The latter stands, eyes wide in shell-shock. So much has happened in the last hour than he could ever imagine, you feel a surge of sorrow that he’s now facing this decision. 

But with Asra, you see fresh panic start to build in his beautiful eyes. Everything had gone so well up until now; they had been so close to freedom. But at the last minute, they may get caught, and all of this would have been for naught. 

Something in you then clicks, and you face the two dogs. You start to concentrate and focus some magic in the palms of your hand.

“Asra, run,” you mutter behind you. “I can hold them off.”

There’s silence as you now directly stand off against the two dogs, staring at their blood red eyes. One of them furrows their brows, sensing that something is about to happen.

“Go!!” you yell ferociously before materializing the magic into a gust of wind to blow them back. Two yelps confirm that you hit your targets, which are sent back a good number of meters.

Then, chaos. You hear Asra urge Muriel on. His chains clang against the pristine floors, and the rushed footsteps of everyone trying to escape. 

You focus more magic into your hands, trying to conjure something before the dogs can get up. But they aren’t Lucio’s hunting dogs for nothing, and just as the wind dies down, they’re up on their paws and charging angrily towards you.

All you can manage is a brief flash of light to blind the one in the lead, which you seem to pull off. Hearing a yelp and their claws skidding on the floor to stop, you step backwards before turning to follow the rest to safety.

But then you make the mistake of looking behind you.

Right as you do, you see the one behind the first lunge out viciously, lips curled in a snarl. The dog jumps out magnificently and bites down on your leg to grab you.

“Ahh!!” A sharp cry escapes your lips. You grit your teeth, letting the adrenaline take over your body. Tugging your leg back to you, you feel tears wet the corners of your eyes as all you feel is the dog’s teeth sinking deeper into your leg, refusing to let up.

Somehow, through your pain, you see Asra turn his head in the distance. He stumbles before calling your name.

With a groan, you turn back to the dog, who’s eyes gleam in the night. Gritting your teeth, you hastily manifest your magic in the quickest way it can. From your hands spits fire, and you aim the attack right at the dog’s face.

The dog lets out a pained howl, and releases his grip on your leg to shield his snout from the fire. You stumble forward, trying your best to run while the dog deals with his fur almost being burned off.

You hear Asra call your name again, his voice bouncing in the hall. Adrenaline still coursing through you, you try your best to run, but the pain in your leg almost makes you fall over.

Then, a pair of slim arms comes around your waist and shoulders. “Come on, now, let’s hurry,” Ilya’s voice urges. You try your best to rush out, but after a few strides, the doctor is all but carrying you out of the palace. 

As the four of you scramble out, you take a glance at Asra, whose eyes are wide and terrified. You hear more barking behind you, and you realize that the other dog has probably recovered from his temporary blindness. With another rush of energy, you desperately urge everyone on, hoping you all are lucky enough to outrun a speedy hunting dog.

Ilya manages to miraculously lead everyone out the servants’ exit, losing the dog, and then all of you dash out of the grounds and into the streets. After putting a few streets’ lengths distance between the palace and you, Ilya stops behind a building to rest.

“Follow me, I have a place we can bunker down for a while,” Ilya mutters, still apprehensive about being caught. If you had the strength, you would look around to see that the doctor had been guiding you towards the town square. But once you had stopped running, the adrenaline in your body had dissipated, and the stinging pain returns in your leg. You let out a hiss as you hunch over in pain.

Asra gasps your name, and rushes to your side, putting a comforting hand on your back. “Oh--I-I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, and you can hear the fresh tears in his voice.

You take a minute to breathe, trying to get your pain under control. You want to say that this isn’t Asra’s fault, that they had succeeded. But instead, you feel Ilya’s hands on your shoulders.

“Here, let’s head to somewhere where you can lie down. I should take a look at your leg,” he advises, gently getting me up to walk.

Nodding, you accept his help, and you hobble forth.

It isn’t too far of a walk, but it’s silent. Muriel walks stoically, still not sure if what’s happening is real; Asra walks while holding Muriel’s hand, which seems to swallow his, while glancing at you every so often; Ilya is kindly supporting you as you limp to your destination. You’re surprised when Ilya stops at the community theatre.

“We aren’t here to see a show, I’m assuming?” you clarify as you hear warm laughter from the building. At this point, you have no doubt that he knows of a secret entrance somewhere.

“You would be correct, although they say laughter  _ is _ the best medicine,” Ilya quips before bringing everyone around to the side of the theatre. The doctor pops open a part of the wooden exterior, and flips a switch under the wood that undoes a latch that holds a secret door closed. It takes some effort to hold in a groan once you see that there’s just stairs waiting for you.

“Sorry for that,” Ilya winces. “But no one will even think to look here.”

“That’s ok,” you manage before bracing yourself for the flight up the stairs. Behind you, you can hear Asra gently coaxing Muriel up to the roof of the theatre.

Once you overcome the last step, the doctor brings you over to a clear part of the space. You manage to spot very dusty stage props and equipment that is no longer in use. Clearly this place is for storage, amongst other, possibly dodgier, uses.

“I’ll go grab some things, try to lie on your side in the meantime,” Ilya says and ducks behind a large prop.

Asra takes no time to rush over and starts to undo his scarf. 

“Here,” he offers, bundling it up into a makeshift pillow. You smile and lift your head to accept it.

After making sure you’re comfortable, he brings a hand to cup your cheek, and whispers your name. “Does it hurt?” he asks softly.

“A little,” you answer. But then you focus over to Muriel, who’s sitting just a little ways from both of you. “But it was worth it.”

Asra seems to overflow with gratitude. “I can’t believe it…”

“You should go to him. I’ll be fine with Ilya. But make sure Muriel’s doing ok,” you say.

He pauses, conflicted.

“I’ll be fine,” you repeat gently. You bring your hand up and give his hand on your cheek a reassuring squeeze. With that, Asra nods and leans over to give you a sweet kiss on the cheek before tending to his friend. 

You feel yourself relaxing a little as you hear the quiet mumbles of Asra and Muriel talking, intermixed with the muffled stage play below. Then, Ilya comes back into view.

“I knew I had these here. Now, let’s take a look at your leg.” He opens a small bag and pulls out some gauze and a bottle.

“Did you work as the local theatre doctor before Lucio picked you up?” you quip, wincing when Ilya lifts your leg to examine you carefully. You feel better when you see him smirk.

“Not quite,” he answers vaguely, setting your leg down. He gets some of the liquid from the vile and starts to clean your wound with it. You draw in a quick breath when you feel it sting your wound.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “It’s just something to sterilize the wound. Don’t want any infections.” You nod in understanding, but grip the makeshift pillow from Asra’s scarf a bit harder.

You hear Ilya mumble a few words to himself here and there before he tells you he’s going to have to stitch up your leg to help with healing. Hearing that, you blanch a little. 

“L-Like right now?” you clarify, not particularly liking the idea of having a needle threaded into you. You did trust Ilya, but… 

“Unfortunately, yes. Best to do it as soon as we can.”

It hadn’t been the most painful process you’ve been through, but it had certainly been up there. Ilya had given you a small drink to help, but you still had to grit your teeth from crying out.

A bit of a yelp did escape your lips, which had sent Asra straight back to your side. At first, you had been glad to see him, but then noticing the guilt in his eyes hadn’t made it easier on your pain. But luckily you had had the strength to ask about Muriel, which distracted you just enough for Ilya to finish the procedure.

“I’ll wrap this up, and then we’ll be done,” Ilya said gently. “You did well.”

You give him a smile. “Thanks. Don’t know what we would have done without such a great doctor.”

Almost on cue, the audience in the main theatre then applauds for the production on play. The three of you pause, taking in the irony of the situation, before sharing a short laugh.

Then, once the applause dies down, you sit up, craning your head to see Muriel, whose a bit aways from the rest of you. You’re lucky enough to catch his gaze before he looks away, almost ashamed.

“Muriel,” you call out. “How are you feeling?”

He looks at the ground before plucking up the voice to speak. “I...I should be asking you that question…” he grumbles, staring intently at the floorboards.

“Hey, I’m fine. Just a scratch,” you say, putting on a bit of a smug smile in hopes of easing his worries. You’re not sure if it works.

“I...I should go back,” he says gravely after a moment of silence.

“What?” the three of you blurt out. Go back? Why? Didn’t he hate it there?

“Why would you go back?” you ask, apparently the first one to recover.

“Muri, you don’t have to listen to Lucio anymore,” Asra says, attempting to placate his friend. “You know he’s broken deals he’s made now. He said to me that he wouldn’t hurt you, but he has!”

“But he  _ hasn’t _ hurt me. Not directly...not by his hand,” Muriel grumbles sadly.

“Oh that’s bullshit and you know it,” Asra swears, which takes you aback slightly.

“Trust me, he’ll see it like that. He only ever gets into technicalities when it suits him…”

“Muriel, please, don’t go back. Please. You can stay in the hut, and we can be with you. We’ll keep you safe from him. Just, please. Don’t go back.”

Asra’s quiet plea hangs in the air as the theatre shuts down for the night. Below, you can hear the doors to the entrance close and a lock click. All is quiet in the theatre. 

You take cautious glances at Muriel’s face, which remains stoic and unmoving. You’re unsure whether Asra’s words really had any effect or not. You’re about to lose hope, when you hear him let out a defeated sigh, and grumble a short “fine”. Asra sighs in relief.

“But if he comes for me,” Muriel insists, “then I’m going. I’m not letting him hurt you.”

You could feel the tension, and almost raw desire, from Asra, wanting to make Muriel take those words back. But sooner or later, he just nods. 

Ilya coughs awkwardly. “I think it may be time for us to head out of here. Not that I don’t find these dusty rafters cozy, but the Count still expects me to report to him tomorrow.”

You nod and rise to get ready to go, testing out your leg.

“Do you think that...Lucio could come after us?” Asra asks softly, after being lost in a moment of thought.

That thought makes you pause. While Lucio himself hadn’t seen you three rescue Muriel, he sure is going to find it suspicious to see that his supposedly submissive champion gone.

“We can’t go back to the shop,” Asra states with a degree of finality.

“What? Asra, we can’t just not open up,” you counter, a bit shocked. Yes this had happened for you two, but for the rest of Vesuvia, life moves on.

“We can leave it for a day. Let’s just go to the forest for now, and we can check on it tomorrow. I just have a bad feeling about this,” Asra pushes, worry creasing his brow. 

You feel yourself nod while you start to think how in the world you’re going to make it all the way to the forest on essentially one and a half legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading!! just a few notes to finish things off.
> 
> i hope you readers are safe and healthy. please adhere to the guidance that the WHO has given on social distancing! it's very important to help slow the spread of the coronavirus to help those who are vulnerable, and to help hospitals to make sure they aren't overwhelmed with patients. also, make sure you wash your hands for at least 20 seconds! if you cannot find disinfectants or cleaning materials on shelves, white vinegar and lemon juice makes a good DIY cleaner! 
> 
> now for some good news: since i, among many many others, am practicing social distancing, this means i'll be staying at home for the foreseeable future. which means, more time to write! so, what i'm planning on doing is this being my final update until my fic is finished. i'm very close, just a few chapters. i will not be updating until my fic is done, then i'll upload the remaining chapters that are left. ironically, i'm writing out the chapters related to the Red Plague as i'm home due to coronavirus...haha.
> 
> please stay safe, everyone :)


	36. News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you and Asra seem to go back to everyday life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I will say this is not the rest of the fic. There's more coming. But there was more than I thought, and I felt bad for just not updating in a while. So here's a chapter today, I'll probably update in a couple more days :) Thank you guys for your support!! Stay safe!

That night, miraculously, you had in fact made it back. It definitely took longer than usual, but you had made it. Throughout the trek back, Muriel had been pretty mute, even when Asra had tried to talk to him a couple of times. When we had all gotten back to the hut, he all but retreated into a corner, silently absorbing all the events that had happened today. 

Ilya had parted with the rest of you at the edge of the woods. While we could get away with avoiding the Count, as the official doctor of Lucio, Ilya couldn’t. He had mentioned just going back to his spot in town for the night, then making some story up of needing something that caused his absence in the palace. He had tried to put on a confident, reassuring smile. But you could see through it. He was apprehensive; but you all were.

The first day had passed, and it had made you anxious, just sitting in the hut all day. Ilya had given you brief, last minute instructions for what to do with your leg. They did give you something to do, but not a full day’s worth. 

Asra had set up a multitude of protections and alarms around the area, in case anything were to come up. None of you really expected anything to happen, but like caring for your leg, it had given Asra something to do.

Even Muriel needed something. You could tell he had just been going through the motions - tidying up nooks and crannies, taking care of his chickens. But every so often, you had noticed his eyes a touch too wet, staring off a thousand yards ahead of him.

The first day had passed. Other than the immediate surroundings, Asra had forbidden the both of you to leave the area. At first, you had agreed. But then another day passed, and yet another. By the fourth day, even Faust and Oberon could feel the pent up anxiety that the little hut was containing.

“Asra, we need to check up on the shop. It’s going to look almost suspicious now, and my leg’s getting better,” you urge. You didn’t want palace guards, or really anyone, check up on the shop. Not that they would have reason to...right? “Plus, we need to check up on the stove salamander. I don’t want him burning the shop down.”

He pauses biting his fingernails, a recent anxious tick he’s developed, and turns to you. You catch a brief twitch of anxiety before he takes a deep breath.

“You’re right…” he murmurs, turning his head to Muriel as he does so. Getting up from his seat, he goes over to his massive friend, who’s sitting on the bed.

Oberon affectionately nips at your ear. He senses the shifting energy, the anticipation of returning home.

Asra talks in a low voice with Muriel, while you stiffly get up to gather your things. You wonder if Ilya’s going to have to take a look at your leg again. Surely you aren’t going to keep the threaded stitches in your leg forever.

“Alright, Muriel should be ok for the time being...but I think I’ll come back later tonight,” Asra says, walking over to you. He reaches out and gently clasps your hand. You give a kind squeeze.

“Of course,” you reply gently. “You know, you can stay. I’m pretty sure I can make it back on my own.”

His eyes widen a bit, shocked. “Wha--no. No. I’m not just going to let you go alone.” Asra’s eyes wander down to your injured leg. You’re limping a bit, but it’s definitely improved since the night of the incident.

After a brief moment, his lovely eyes wander back up to meet yours, and you nod silently, allowing him to take care of you. 

“Alright, let’s go,” Asra murmurs softly. He takes one look back at Muriel, silently reassuring him that he’ll be back soon. Muriel nods, his countenance seemingly blank.

Asra gently closes the door and triple checks his spells. You pick up your makeshift walking stick that had been resting outside the door. You had found it on the first evening of Asra’s house arrest, and thought it could be useful. It had certainly helped you to walk better. Over the past days, you had idly carved onto it, with protective spells interwoven amongst whimsical designs.

Once Asra nods his head in satisfaction, he hurries over to you and you two start walking.

The forest is quiet, save for the rustling of woodland creatures and the whisper of an occasional breeze. Faust is happily slithering from your left shoulder to your right, enjoying the air beyond the hut. Oberon rests contentedly in Asra’s satchel.

You hear Asra mumble something under his breath. “What was that?” you ask.

“Hm? Oh, nothing,” he answers vaguely. 

Your lips twist into a knowing smile. You’d think after knowing him for so long that he would know better than to think you’d be satisfied with that.

Noticing that he is fingering his cards, you ask, “Did one of the cards speak to you?”

“One of them said something,” he answers. “But I’m not sure what. I couldn’t quite catch it.”

With 78 cards in a deck, it is a challenge to isolate one voice from the next. You’ve definitely had that issue before.

“Was it good, or…?” Or something bad, you almost ask. But you manage to hold back that moment of pessimism.

“Not sure...something about just treading carefully,” he mutters, still examining his cards.

“Well we’ll certainly have to,” you joke, shaking your walking stick to get his attention.

He blinks, breaking his focus on the cards and looks at the stick, then at you. A silent moment passes before his lips spread into a smile, and then a laugh. You hadn’t known that you’d missed it until hearing it. To you, it had seemed like a long time since any of you had laughed in earnest.

“Yeah, hopefully you don’t trip on our way back,” Asra says jokingly. But almost instantly after the words leave his mouth, he trips on a tree root, and it’s your turn to laugh.

The walk back is pleasantly silent, the air filled with bird songs and chatter between you two. A few rainclouds wander around in the sky, and when you finally turn the corner to see the shop in sight, a few raindrops wet your hair.

Papers are nailed onto the door as Asra goes to unlock it. You hobble up behind him right as you hear the  _ click _ of the door unlocking. Asra hurriedly grabs all the papers on the door, and the couple right by their feet, before ushering you inside. As the door closes, you see more raindrops coming down on the window.

“None of those are from the palace, right?” you ask, turning away from the window and to Asra, who’s shuffling through the papers by the countertop.

“No, thankfully,” he sighs. “Just some letters and requests from customers.”

You feel a pang of guilt, thinking about how many people needed your wares. Hopefully no one needed anything too urgently. 

“Well, no time like the present, right?” you say, trying to be cheerful. 

Since more than half the day has gone, you two agree to keep the shop closed, but work to fulfill all the requests that were written in. Asra goes in the back to check on the stove salamander, who thankfully had sniffed out the pile of wood by the cauldron and had devoured most of it.

“Actually, it looks like he went through a part of the cabinet…” Asra calls out regrettably as you get comfortable in a chair. Rolling up your sleeves, you grab some ingredients for the first order, while asking for Oberon’s help with the rest. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know any magic that could fix that, would you?” you ask, only half joking. You get a bark of a laugh from Asra.

“Unfortunately not, but I think I can manage to replace it.”

And surprisingly, the two of you quickly settle back into a familiar groove. You continue to fulfill orders, while Asra tidies up around the shop, and helps you if you need it. After dinner, night descends her dark, soothing blankets over the sky, and Asra gives you a final kiss before saying he’ll be back tomorrow morning.

~ ~ ~

When you had opened up shop the next day, you had been a bit apprehensive, with so many questions and worries in your mind. And even though it seems silly, you just can’t stop the nagging feeling that Lucio may show up at any second at the door.

But despite all the noise in your head, you had lit the candle and unlocked the front door to signal that the shop had been opened.

And the first guest had surprised you.

“Ilya?”

The tall, familiar figure closes the door behind him before speaking. “Morning to you too. Hope your leg is doing well.”

“It’s pretty alright. Did you come by to check on it?”

He nods, coming around the corner and bending down to unravel the bandages and check on the wound.

“It seems to be alright. I wasn’t sure when you would be back.”

“Surely you didn’t come all the way from the palace?” you ask.

“No, I actually had to run back to my, erm, abode for a few things.” He leans a little closer and whispers, “the Count has been dealing with a bit of illness.”

So a cold? Is that the bit of luck that had helped you out the night you had rescued Muriel?

“Is it bad?” you ask.

“He’s definitely seemed better, but he’s, ah, rather vocal about his distress. But right now, it just seems like a cough, should be better soon.”

You could tell that he’s choosing his words carefully. Not sure what else to say, you nod.

“Well, I can come by after the shop is closed to take out the stitches. Or I could take them out now; I’m not sure if Lucio will let me out of his sight tonight.”

“Well, I guess I could--” but the opening door cuts you off.

“Sorry I’m late, one of the chickens had--oh!” Asra halts, half in the shop and half out. He shakes his head a bit, before putting on a smile. “Good to see you so early, Ilya. Glad Lucio hasn’t ripped your head off yet.”

Ilya’s lips curl into a rueful smile. “Yes, well it’s hard when he’s practically coughing out a left lung.”

Asra hums. “Well, here’s to hoping he does.”

“Ilya came by to check on my leg. He says he can take the stitches out. Could you take over for a bit?” you ask Asra as he sets his things to the side.

“Sure.”

The doctor helps you to the back kitchen, where he sets you down before taking out some of his equipment in his jacket pocket. Sterilizing it with the help of the stove salamander, he makes quick work of taking out the stitches.

“You can probably start to walk on it more. Don’t want your leg to get weaker,” he advises.

You nod before getting up and half hobbling back to the counter. Ilya passes by and goes to the door.

“Good luck with the Count,” you say, hoping Lucio doesn’t give him too much trouble.

He puts on a half-confident, half-painful smile before waving, then closing the door behind him.

~ ~ ~

The first day of the shop opening comes and goes with zealous energy. Some familiar faces come by just to check up on you, and you find yourself pleasantly surprised that the shop had developed such regular customers. You wish you could thank them more, but after being closed for more than half a week, you find people pouring in and demanding your attention.

Asra returns to Muriel a few more nights before being confident in Muriel’s ability to stay alone safely. You had offered the shop, but you had already known Asra’s answer to that.

“I think he’d prefer being away from everyone right now.” You had nodded in understanding.

One morning when Asra opens the shop, the baker comes by to offer a loaf for our return. It’s a pumpkin loaf, warm and comforting, and probably exactly what you and Asra both need. The two of you thank him generously, and even gift a good luck charm before he parts.

As you both sit down to share the bread, you let out a small breath you didn’t know you are holding. While the past few days hadn’t been the busiest for the shop, it had still been taxing to get back into the swing of things, especially with your leg still healing. You eye your cold cup of herbal tea you had brewed for your leg as you eat.

“This might be the best thing I’ve had from the baker,” Asra comments through bites. You can’t help but smile at the crumbs around his lips. You reach out and brush them away; Asra rewards you with a light kiss on your fingers.

~~

As the days continue to pass, you and Asra start to get wind of a contagion sweeping by a neighboring village. You had gotten a few orders for health potions, and you’re wondering if it had reached the edges of Vesuvia. Normally, you wouldn’t worry about it, but Asra had said he heard things about a sickness slowly spreading, and odd swarms of beetles. You frown at the information, but no one from the government had released any sort of statement, so surely it couldn’t be too much of a problem. Word of illnesses come and go, usually.

It’s not until Ilya comes panting into the shop that you suddenly understand the scope of the disease.

“It wasn’t a cold - Lucio has the Plague.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Y'all ever just...think about the global pandemic and the Red Plague...)


	37. An Unfortunate Event

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you discover more about the Plague, and the Count gets impatient.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys for reading, and for the kudos and comments. they truly make my day!

The Plague, you had learned, refers to the Red Plague, which is the very disease terrorizing Vesuvia’s neighboring villages. Ilya had informed you and Asra that the dangerous disease can show symptoms within 24 hours, and can claim its victims in as little as three days.

Suddenly the threat of the Red Plague seems so real. Every time you venture out into the market, each cough makes you involuntarily jump a little. Will that person be alright? Or is it the Plague? Could they have infected anyone else, or spread their germs onto wares? Often, you quickly chide yourself for those rather rude thoughts, but you find yourself still automatically flinching away from those who cough or seem unwell. 

The day after Ilya had informed you of the Count’s condition, rumors of the Plague hit every street. Some claim it’s an epidemic, others say it’s just individual cases. The Palace has made no announcement about either the Red Plague, or Lucio having it. You’re almost certain that only the Palace staff, Nadia, you, and Asra know about the Count’s ailment. But Ilya had told you that those who had been unfortunate enough to contract the Plague die in mere days. So what has been happening in the Palace?

Since you’ve heard of the Red Plague, more and more people have been coming in. Some seek charms and potions for good luck and good health. But the majority look for Asra’s readings, desperately hoping to know if their loved one will be cured of sickness, if they will catch the Plague, if Death was in their future. Fear and anxiety clouds the atmosphere of the shop with these readings, and it often concerns you as well. You can’t help but overhear the gasps of patrons if the Death or Devil card is drawn, and the immediate babbling that comes afterwards that Asra always tries to placate. It’s happened so many times now that you wonder if you should just put a sign by Asra’s reading table in the back.

Sighing, you decide to just hope for the best and continue with restocking potions.

~~

Ilya wipes off the sweat on his brow and takes a moment to let out a defeated sigh. Yet another experiment fails. The scuttling from the contained beetles slowly starts to sound like mocking laughter in his ears.

“Are we doing well, Doctor 069?” a hiss asks in his ear.

Fighting his initial reflex to jump, a small yelp escapes his lips. “Oh, Quaestor Valdemar. Er, no, I’m fine. Just...another disappointing day it seems.”

The figure hums. “You seemed so sure of the...leeches.” Ilya can’t tell if their tone of voice is disapproving or not.

“I’m sure this plague is blood-related. Maybe I need to find the right species of leech…”

Ilya’s mumbling gets cut off when an urgent voice calls for him. “Doctor Devorak! The Count would like to see you!” The small but present note of panic does not escape Ilya’s attention. He doesn’t blame the servant who called down to him. He’d be more terrified too if he wasn’t so exhausted.

Gingerly rising from his work station, he stretches his long limbs, and then confirms that all his protective sanitary gear is secure on his person before exiting the lab in the dungeon. Can’t help find a cure to the Plague if he got the Plague.

Once out, he removes his garbs and deposits them to be cleansed before heading up to the Count’s room. Ever since Lucio had been made bedridden (by himself), you’d think he had had his legs amputated off along with his arm. Even if something was across the room, he would demand someone get it for him. He’s summoned Ilya to do tedious tasks more times than he has this whole week than last month. Preposterous.

“Jules!!!” Another ringing shout followed by a volley of coughs resounds through the Count’s wing. That spooks Ilya enough to hurry along and knock on the door before entering.

“Yes, sir?” the doctor asks as politely as he can. Hopefully he can just do whatever Lucio wants him to do and then leave.

“Any updates? Is my cure ready yet?” the blonde ruler asks, putting on as much of a pitiful whine as he can. But Ilya sees right through it and bites back an eye roll. If Lucio hadn’t been bedridden, he would think the Count is attempting to win back his affections. But Ilya’s learned from his mistakes.

“No, not too much development,” the doctor answers, trying to keep his voice neutral.

Lucio scoffs before hacking out a couple coughs. “Well when is it going to be ready? I’m miserable, and I look disgusting! I can’t do anything like this.”

Biting his lips for fear of another verbal beating, Ilya simply tidies up around the messy Count. “You have a whole team working with you on finding a cure. For now, we can only be helping you with the symptoms.”

Another whine escapes Lucio. “But you said that last week. What if I die tomorrow? What will the city do?”

What will the city do indeed, Ilya thinks to himself. Allowing himself a brief sigh, he pours some more hot tea for the Count. “Science, in all its strengths, can’t be rushed. It isn’t all that hocus pocus nonsense.”

The silence from Lucio following his words made Ilya breathe a bit better. But what he did miss is the thoughtful glint in Lucio’s bloodshot eyes. “Yes...I suppose you’re right…”

Setting the teapot down, the doctor shifts uncomfortably as the silence in the air hangs longer and longer. Finally, Lucio seems to notice that he hadn’t dismissed Ilya.

“Well, it might be time for me to...get in touch with a certain magician. You’re dismissed, Jules.”

On instinct, Ilya turns to leave, only to register the Count’s words as he gently closes the door. He feels his stomach drop to his heels. 

Stupid, he thinks, berating himself. They had just gotten the Scourge out of Lucio’s grasp, and now he may as well have tossed them back at Lucio. He knows that the Count is desperate to do anything to find a cure. He stares at that gaudy painting of him atop of Death all day.

Hoping to try and fix his mistake, he rushes into town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok that's all for now! let me know what you guys think! ~~also i wrote a smutty chapter do y'all want it lmk~~


	38. Faithless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the consequences are met.

Sharp, urgent knocking wakes you up earlier than you would like. You jerk up groggily, blurting out sleepy nonsense before looking out the window. The sun is barely up. Confused and, honestly, annoyed, you look back at Asra, who has his arms around your waist.

“Who do you think that is?” you ask while yawning.

Asra tightens his arm around your waist. “I dunno. It’s too early...”

More knocks on the door. Groaning, you heave yourself out of bed, grabbing Asra’s shirt to throw on. You smile teasingly at him when he lets out a small “hey” before hiking up some pants and going down the stairs, pausing to give Faust a few scritches.

“Ilya?” you say, bewildered, as you open the door. The doctor stumbles through, mumbling under his breath.

“Ilya, what’s wrong?” you ask, watching him pace around the store.

“...before morning. Yes, that should work.” is all you catch before he locks eyes with you. “You and Asra have to flee, now.”

“We’re what?”

“What are we doing?” Asra asks, stepping into the front of the shop, Faust on one shoulder, Oberon on the other. In any other circumstance, his bed head would make you laugh.

“The two of you need to be gone by tonight, at the latest,” Ilya states sternly.

“Why, what’s going on?” you ask, not sure if this is a dream or not. You rub your eyes and pinch yourself for good measure.

The doctor pauses, avoiding your eyes. “Um...the, er, Count may be looking for one of you...or both of you…”

Suddenly the air becomes thicker as the silence between the three of you grows. “Why…?” Asra asks quietly, expression unreadable, but now very awake.

Ilya continues to falter over his words. “I...er, may have...accidentally said something…about the two of you...”

Another pregnant pause fills the air. 

“What?” you repeat in disbelief.

“Ilya,  _ why _ would you do that,” Asra demands, now very angry. “After everything with Muriel, and all his manipulation,  _ why _ .”

“It...it was an accident. I was getting so fed up with him, he keeps asking for a cure almost daily now. I just...let it slip.”

“Let it  _ slip _ ? Ilya, that’s not an excuse, what he did to us was dangerous--”

“Do you really think it’s only you? Do you think that you three are the only ones Lucio’s manipulated like that?” Ilya snaps.

“Ok, ok, that’s enough,” you interrupt, trying to stop the situation from further escalating. You walk over to Asra’s side and put a hand on his chest, as if to try and physically placate him. It seems to work, if only ever so slightly. He rests a tense hand on your hip.

“Ilya, what did you exactly say?” you ask in a neutral voice.

“I just may have suggested...that one of you with your, er, skills, may be able to help find the cure to the Red Plague.”

Uncharacteristically, Asra snorts. “As if you believe in any of the things we do.”

“Well, that doesn’t necessarily matter, does it?”

“...Why not try it?” you suggest.

Asra whips his head to you and stares at you like you grew an extra head. “Wh...what?”

“Why not try and help? What if we can find a cure?”

His mouth drops in shock. “Wh...what? No, there’s no way I’m letting you get entangled with Lucio again.”

“Well I’m not exactly asking you for permission,” you respond tersely, a bit shocked at the magician. “He’s weak, Asra. And he has all the money and power of Vesuvia! We can use that. How many people have died because of the Plague?”

You can see Asra visibly falter. “But...I can’t...I can’t just let you go back to the Palace like that. I’ll go instead.”

“No, Asra. You and Muriel have gone through enough. Just, let me do this. It’s not like Lucio can physically hurt me, he’s bedridden.”

Asra seems to process a hundred retorts, but more knocking cuts off what he has to say.

Feeling that you’re the most level headed right now, you go to open the door, hoping Asra doesn’t jump Ilya, or vice versa.

You feel like nothing can surprise you, but the world just likes to prove you wrong.

“Greetings. I have order from Count Lucio to escort this shop’s owner to the Palace,” a soldier barks when you open the door. His companion stands silent, but gazes at you intently.

Luckily, from where you are, neither Asra nor Ilya would be visible to the soldiers.

“I am the shop owner. May I ask on what grounds the Count is requesting me?” you ask, hoping your voice is neutral.

“You are to be enlisted to find a cure for the Count’s illness,” he says vaguely. “We’ll be departing shortly.”

“But, can I at least gather--” but the soldier stops his words by stomping the spear he’s carrying by his side into the ground. You get the hint.

Struggling not to look back, you close the door behind you and close the door behind you. One armor clad hand unkindly pushes you to hurry with them as they march you to the Palace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!! always love your kudos and comments.


	39. Setting Up Shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you settle into your new role at the Palace.

It turns out you wouldn’t be able to investigate the disappearance of Nadia. You wouldn’t be able to, because you didn’t have the time. 

The next day, Lucio had demanded you get thrown in with the rest of the doctors to work on the cure. A distressed and nervous servant, hearing the Count’s words, scurried to get you and talked as fast as possible through what had sounded like some guidance in protecting yourself and others while working, but honestly, you only caught about half of what they said. Once they had shown you the protective gear, their hurried footsteps echoed throughout the stone stairway as they left as fast as they could.

You stand there, rightfully overwhelmed and concerned. Did you really have any place in being where actual doctors studied the disease? You had no medical training. Plus, would it have any of the supplies you needed? Lucio had given you absolutely no time to prepare and pack anything.

Nevertheless, you look at your new set of protective gear, bright white and new unlike some others you see, and put it on. You adjust the straps to your mask to make sure it’s secure before cautiously opening the heavy door.

You’re met with bright red lights and a stale, horrid scent as you walk in. Being careful to close the door behind you, you look around. One or two other physicians glance at you, but the majority of them keep working. You figure Lucio has threatened them with something terrible as well.

“Oh, what do we have here? Another doctor? I wasn’t expecting anyone so soon, we do have enough bodies,” a cold, purring voice says. You look around, vision limited due to the mask, and see a doctor with a peculiar, double pronged hat and captivating eyes. Their skin seems to take on a greenish hue, but you’re not sure because of the odd lighting.

“Unless…” they continue, “you’re the magician whom Lucio called for.”

Something doesn’t sit right with you, but you keep your composure. “Yep, that’s me,” you say, and introduce yourself. You begin to stick your hand out for a handshake, but realize that isn’t wise.

“Hm, yes, yes,” they murmur, words slithering through the air. “Why don’t--” but a familiar voice calling your name cuts them off.

“Here already,” Ilya says. You wouldn’t have noticed him if he hadn’t spoken, his white plague mask obscuring his face. “Hello, er, Quaestor Valdemar,” he says, voice seeming to tremble ever so slightly. “I can take over here, show the ropes.”

There’s a silent pause that hangs in the air for just a beat too long for your liking before the Quaestor says, “Alright, Doctor 069. I expect some improvements to our work soon then,” before walking away to observe everyone else.

You could almost feel Ilya’s relief the further the two of you get away from Quaestor Valdemar. Not knowing what to say, the two of you are silent as he leads you to a back room.

“Who was that?” you ask hesitantly as Ilya closes the door behind him.

“That was the lovely Quaestor, they’re part of Lucio’s court, and the head physician, which means they’re my boss,” the doctor says, taking off his mask and letting a shudder slip by him. “You can take off your mask at least, this room is safe.”

You’re wary of him, but you’d feel awkward if he didn’t have a mask on and you did. So you take it off.

“They’re quite a character,” you comment.

Ilya grimaces slightly. “That’s one way to put it. So, glad you made it here safely, didn’t have your head chewed off by Lucio.”

“And who’s fault would that be if my head had been?” you retort accusingly, though not without some amusement.

You try to keep a straight face as you see Ilya’s bloom with an embarrassed blush. “Look, whatever it is I need to do to make it up to you--”

“It’s ok. Asra and I can figure it out,” you interject, not wanting him to worry. Besides, there are more important things to worry about now. “You don’t think that there’s any sort of magical equipment here, is there?”

Ilya bites back a laugh. “Certainly not in here.”

“Okaayyy,” you drag out, examining the small collection of books in the room. Some seem moderately useful, but a lot of them are about physical characteristics and treatments for patients and diseases. And, of course, nothing remotely related to magic. 

“How am I supposed to work if there’s nothing for me to work with,” you mutter, irritated. Does Lucio just expect for you to pull the cure out of a hat? 

“Well, if you need...I could try to get us out of here and into the main library,” the doctor says thoughtfully. “It may not have everything, but we’ll have access to the servants. No one ever really comes down here.”

Hm, well maybe this wouldn’t be totally miserable after all. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

~~

Getting out of the dungeon-like work setting had been easier than you thought. With Lucio screaming for his cure, and Quaestor Valdemar slinking over everyone’s shoulders, a few quick words from Ilya and you two had successfully slipped out. 

“We’ll still have to visit to actually test anything we make,” Ilya mentions as he leads you to the library. “But the rest of the time we can stay up here. I really can’t think of anyone who will go down there but the doctors.”

“I just hope I’ll be able to get the things I need,” you comment, already thinking of a list of herbs and plants to get started on some ideas for potions.

“If the Palace lacks them, then I’m sure a runner can go and fetch them.”

Another benefit of working here, you think to yourself. Even though you essentially are being held prisoner, you can’t help but think of what else you could accomplish while here. 

“Ah, I always forget that the library is locked off. Let me go find someone to unlock it,” the doctor mutters before rushing down the hall to flag someone down.

Luckily it doesn’t take long for Ilya to return with a servant, who has an impressive set of keys. You watch curiously as the mechanism unlocks.

Ilya thanks the servant after they usher the two of you into the library. Even under the circumstances of you being here, you’re still in awe at the grandeur of the place. Countless books glimmer in the light coming through the stained glass windows. Somehow, luscious vegetation lined the railing on the higher floors. You had always wondered how Nadia stayed married to Lucio for so long, but with the library, you’re starting to see an answer. 

“I hate to interrupt your ogling, but Lucio will be demanding an update sometime within the next 24 hours, so we may as well get a move on,” Ilya informs with a bit of a smirk. You feel heat in your cheeks as you close your mouth, wondering when it had fallen open.

“R-right,” you stammer, mentally slapping yourself. People are dying, and you’re gawking at books. You’ll have time for that later...hopefully…

“I’m going to need a few things,” you realize, remembering you have no cauldron, no ingredients, nothing. Turning to the servant, who is still standing by the doorway thankfully, you smile a bit awkwardly. “I’m so sorry, but could I request a few items?”

You work out what you’ll need with the servant and thank them repeatedly once you’re done. You do make a note to them saying to not visit your shop.

“Wouldn’t it be easier if they just swing by your shop?” Ilya asks once the servant closes the door and leaves.

“It would, but I don’t want to worry Asra any more than he is now. Besides, I shouldn’t be putting the servants here in the middle of our mess.”

You miss a wince from the doctor, who is undoubtedly remembering why you’re in the Palace, as you go to the shelves to search for texts to start on your research.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading!!! (｡・//ε//・｡)


	40. End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the journey comes to an end.

Asra awakens to the sound of thunder grumbling away in the distance. A breeze brings the scent of last night’s rain into the bedroom. He awakens, alone in the bed, and staring at the empty pillow beside him. You should be there. But you aren’t.

_Friend?_ Faust’s sleepy voice asks. _Miss..._

“Yeah...me too.” Asra strokes Oberon’s head, hoping to give him some love. He leans into Asra’s hand.

After a brief stretch, he brings himself to get up and find semi-appropriate clothes to put on for work. He has some charms to make before the shop opens. 

Grabbing day old bread, he sits down to finish a batch of them. Some customers have been complaining about the lack of potions. When the shop had fully run out of them, Asra had tried to brew some, but his magic just hadn’t been in the right place. All he had done was waste the ingredients for the brew.

So he sticks to charms, and keeps a straight face as he informs customers that the magician who brews them is away. Some take it alright, others whine even more, and yet some others suspect that the magician had been hit by the Plague. Asra is still somehow able to keep a straight face.

On some days, the comfort of Faust and Oberon can ease his heart. Other days, scheming to sneak into the Palace does. But some days, nothing seems to work.

Asra finishes up a reading one day, and closes up soon after, noticing the darkening skies. Rumors of the Count repurposing a deserted island near Vesuvia’s waters are beginning to spook the citizens. Readings to see whether or not someone gets the Plague seems to be all Asra does these days. Even the cards seem somewhat restless, sending him odd signs, flashes of red, heat, and black snow, but he doesn’t know what to make of them. Of course, he can never get a straight answer from the cards themselves either.

As the days continue on, the idea of temporarily fleeing Vesuvia becomes more and more appealing to Asra. It seems like every day, the sick replace the healthy more and more. Luckily, he’s had Faust check up on Muriel, who’s been doing fine in the forest.

Throughout the day, Asra continues to plot the best course for rescuing you, grabbing Muriel, and running away. He thinks Nopal is a suitable place for now, but he wonders if he can go further.

Finally, the sun falls behind the buildings, and Asra takes one last look at the shop. He had grabbed what he needed, and had gotten rid of the rest. He had long since donated the stove salamander to a small clinic, doing the best they could with helping those with the Plague. Making sure Faust and Oberon were secure, he brings his scarf over his head and makes his way toward the Palace.

The journey there is eerily silent. He sticks to the shadows and avoids the occasional guard keeping curfew. Occasionally the stale air will be broken up by a cough or two from a household.

When he arrives, he is met with great luck, as he finds the hidden servant’s entrance unlocked. Grateful, he slips into the Palace grounds, and makes his way to the garden, where he knows he can find entrance into the Palace there.

Not far into the garden, he hears a familiar voice coming from the balcony to the library. Remaining behind a tree, he peers up to see the back of Ilya’s head, his hair greasy and unkempt. It looks like he hasn’t bathed in days. He gets up to stretch, and mumbles something to whoever he’s talking to. Asra then hears the voice of whom he’s looking for.

Against his temptations, he sits and waits, hoping to get a moment with you when Ilya steps away.

~~

Is this what heartbreak is?

He stumbles out of the garden and back out the servant’s entrance, towards the forest.

Never has Asra felt so...sad.

His feet numbly carry him on a trail towards Muriel’s hut.

Why…

Asra absentmindedly registers the dim light from the hut.

Why hadn’t you just come with him.

He knocks on Muriel’s door. Faust tries her best to cheer Asra up, but with little success. Muriel is quick to answer.

Did he not say enough? Should he have said more? All he wants is to keep you out of harm’s way. Lucio still can’t be trusted. The Plague doesn’t discriminate. Just because you’re working for a cure doesn’t mean you can’t get the illness either.

After a long pause, with Muriel shifting rather uncomfortably, Asra comes to his senses for a moment to tell his friend that they’re fleeing Vesuvia, for now. At least until it’s less dangerous. Muriel goes to grab his things.

The two of you had fought, had yelled. Neither of you had yelled at the other before. Asra could tell you had been fatigued, restless. He had tried to keep his words gentle. But the thought of running away now had seemed to irritate you further. Yelling his words had seemed like the only way Asra could get you to listen. But it had just escalated from there. At one point, Asra had tried to just take a hold of your hand, and try to calm you down. Never had his hands felt so cold when you had yanked your hand away.

Muriel locks up, putting some protective charms up around his hut, before adjusting his things and looking to Asra for where to go. Asra leads the two of them out to the fields, where his beastly friend hides. Muriel notices Asra avoiding his gaze, along with his depressed aura, but doesn’t say anything. Oberon hesitantly hops from Asra’s bag to Muriel’s coat to give him company, and to process your absence. Muriel raises a hand to pet him.

Asra gazes at his hand, wishing that yours was in it, fingers intertwined.

The deep, gentle moo from the beast alerts Asra before he finds him. He had sensed them coming. Smiling weakly, he offers a small handful of water chestnuts, and asks the beast to take them to Nopal. The beast sniffs while munching on the treats, eyeing Asra’s vacant look, but doesn’t say anything. He offers his back, and the two of them climb on. Faust secures herself amongst Asra’s things.

Asra wishes he could be holding you tight as the wind rushes past him while on the beast’s back. He wishes he could be protecting you, shielding you from anything that could harm you. But you had chosen to stay, and he couldn’t have done anything to change that.

The journey seems to have passed too quickly and not quickly enough. Gradually the fields erode away to sand, and the prickly vegetation of Nopal is in sight. The beast comes to a stop in front of Asra’s sanctuary.

His sanctuary...where the last time you had been with him, it had been your birthday. How that seems so long ago now…

Asra tells himself he’ll water the plants tomorrow, since it’s now well into the night. He does conjure up some water for the beast, who is grateful after the long run. Muriel goes inside, and Asra follows suit.

He fervently hopes he’ll see you again soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh, what a ride. I can't believe I've finished!! Ahh! I'm sorry if it felt like a long time between updates. I had set it upon myself to get this finished quickly after quarantine started, but...I guess maybe a part of me didn't want this to end (and, uh, I also got Animal Crossing too...). I loved writing this, and I hope you enjoyed reading! To everyone who's left a kudos, and/or a comment, thank you from the bottom of my heart. You guys have helped me rekindle my desire to write. 
> 
> If you're wondering why I wrote in Asra's POV, it's because I wrote a chapter about the MC's demise here in this fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19442107   
> I didn't want to repeat that if anyone had read it, plus I had written it with it sort of integrating into this fic more or less! So feel free to check it out for some more angst (・`ω´・) 
> 
> I hope everyone is staying safe, and taking care of themselves. If you want to reach out, I'm on tumblr as asras-eyelashes (lol). Or just drop a comment below!! Thanks again so much.


	41. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which news is broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all. so sike on the last chapter being the last chapter. i was sitting on the end of this fic, and i realized that i wasn't exactly satisfied with how it ended. it was alright, but i feel like it was missing something. then user Cattleya gave me the idea of doing an epilogue. i thought that'd be a nice way to round this off, just a chapter full of angst. please tell me what you think!

Asra doesn’t know how much time has passed. Days, weeks, months? Certainly he didn’t know. Time is now simply another metric to measure his being away from you.

He wakes lifelessly, eyes simply opening to the rising sun. Faust is on the ledge, basking in its warm rays.

The pillow under his head is too hard. Turning his head, Asra stares at the empty spot beside him on the bed, clearly made for two. He should be sharing this space. And he is, technically. Muriel is out and about, no doubt, always the light sleeper, and early riser. As grateful as he is for his large friend to keep away the crippling loneliness, he wishes it were three sharing the roof, and not just two.

A gust of wind ruffles his hair as he slowly gets up and out of bed. So far, Nopal seems to be void of the Plague. Whether it’s from the sparse population, or the relentless heat, he doesn’t really know. Probably both.

Asra goes to greet Faust good morning with a tender pet to her head. She wordlessly sends a wave of gratitude and love, for which he is grateful for. 

“Oh, Faust, what would I do without you…” the magician murmurs as he continues stroking the python. She flickers her tongue, content.

Heading downstairs, he sees Muriel hunching over to enter the doorway. 

“You’re up,” he comments. Asra smiles at his friend’s version of a “good morning”. He can hear the sarcasm and surprise; this is the first time in a long while that Asra hadn’t slept in. Usually he lies in bed for much longer.

“Morning to you too. Got breakfast?”

Muriel hums, setting down what he brought from town. Asra smiles as thanks.

“You’re going out more,” he comments, sitting down to break some bread.

The taller man shrugs and takes a bite. “Less people than Vesuvia. Plus no one knows us here.”

That is certainly true, which also means they’re mostly out of harm’s way.

They eat mostly in silence, watching the wind bend plant life and kick up some sand. Most, if not all, days are peaceful in Nopal, empty of excitement or danger. It’s a good place for Asra to practice his magic.

After breakfast, Asra goes to water the plants outside, and leaves a pool for the beast to drink from at his leisure. Satisfied with his work, he looks out into the distance, towards the desert village where Muriel had shopped this morning.

“I may go for a bit of a walk today, to stretch my legs,” Asra says, coming back inside.

Muriel looks up from his carving. “Are you sure?”

“I’m feeling alright. And I haven’t really been out and about. I think it’ll be good to explore.”

Going back to his carving, Muriel simply nods. “Just make sure to avoid the camps. Don’t want anyone to recognize you.”

“Thanks, Muriel.” And with that, Asra gathers up his scarf and hat to help him against the harsh sun, but to also hide his face as much as he could. He gives the beast, drinking from the pool, a pat before securing the hat on his head and walking towards the town.

He doesn’t really know what to do, so Asra just wanders aimlessly. But there really isn’t much to see. Small booths surround the main water source, along with some scattered houses here and there. Cacti dot the land, bigger ones somehow able to provide shade. He remembers when he had first settled in Nopal and had watched a boy being taken care of by his friends because he had drunk the cactus juice. Asra chuckles a little thinking about it.

The camps that Muriel had mentioned are situated farthest from the water. Like the two of them, a good number of Vesuvians had decided to flee the city, and some had come here as a result. Asra didn’t know too many people who knew this little desert town existed, so he had been surprised when Muriel had mentioned the camp of refugees.

Steering clear of it, he idles around some carts, when out of the blue he hears his name.

“Asra?”

He turns around to find none other than the baker. Shocked, he pauses for a beat, mouth ajar.

“Oh, Asra, it is you! I’m glad you’re out here, safe,” the baker says, stepping closer to offer a warm hug.

“You as well,” Asra replies, finding his words again. It’s been so long since he’s talked to anyone except Muriel.

The baker hugs him for a beat longer than what feels necessary. Then he looks at Asra with sorrowful eyes. “Asra, I’m so sorry about the news.”

Worried, he asks, “News? What news?”

Realizing Asra doesn’t know, the baker hesitates before saying that you had fallen victim to the Plague, and had been cremated at the Lazaret, Lucio’s solution to the piles and piles of bodies resulting from the disease.

Asra doesn’t realize he’s crying until the baker says anything.

“Asra?”

He hears his name, but it sounds so far away. Are his ears ringing?

“Asra…?”

The baker steps closer to try and comfort him.

But he doesn’t want comfort.

He wants you.

Not being able to stand the sight of the baker, he kicks up an enraged gust of wind, pelting sand at the other man.

Asra turns and starts to run. Everything is too overwhelming. All the staring eyes, the baker’s pitiful look, the glaring desert sun. He needs to get away. 

His feet trip once or twice, losing footing in the loose sand. He absently registers the fact that his grip on his magic is slipping. Every step he takes, dark, brackish water manifests in his tracks, the sand soaking it up, leaving damp footprints. 

Asra manages to run towards his sanctuary, before his tired legs give out at the steps to his door. The impact he makes with the ground forces out a choked sob. Suddenly, his emotions all rage forward, like a flood breaking a dam.

He desperately grips at the ground as he continues to cry, scream, sob. Asra’s raw magic power begins to send ripples into the air. The wind begins to echo his screams, the ground weeps as it slowly melts into salty water, the plants grow in an angry frenzy.

Asra wants to blame someone. He wants to blame Lucio, Ilya, the Plague even. But ultimately he blames himself. If only he had tried harder to convince you to come with him. That all Lucio would do is drain you of your time and energy, and would ultimately exploit you. That all of Vesuvia just simply isn’t worth your precious time, energy, and ultimately, life. If only he had tried  _ harder _ . Then maybe you would be alive.

So caught up in his rage, Asra hardly recognizes Muriel’s shouting over the buffeting winds and the twisting vines. He hears his friend with each wet footstep yank away the vegetation surrounding him like a cocoon. But he doesn’t want to see anyone right now, not if they’re not you. 

As if answering his will, the vines grow back with a fury, twisting and covering Asra away from Muriel. The burly man yelps as the thorns on the vines cut his arms and legs. The brackish water now soaks through his boots, and the wind tears up the sand into his eyes. But Muriel still hears his dearest friend screaming and sobbing helplessly. Muriel’s almost instantly taken back to their lives on the docks of Vesuvia, huddled together as they share their delight and trauma with one another. 

Gritting his teeth, Muriel tears through the new vines and cacti, ignoring the stinging in his hands as the thorns dig into his skin.

“Asra!!” he shouts, praying his friend hears him.

But the wind forbids it. So he tries again.

“Asra!!” 

He coughs up the sand that he chokes on, calling his friend’s name over and over again, hoping Asra hears him.

But in his cocoon, Asra weeps as he feels his heart break in two. Any pain he’s experienced before this pales in comparison. He wraps his arms around himself, attempting to soothe this terrible feeling. How could he go on living like this? In a world without you…

Would it be worth it?

Hopelessness begins to set in. Slowly, the overwhelming power of rage and sorrow ebb until nothing is left. He feels hollow, numb.

Muriel finally breaks through the plants as they start to wilt. The wind calms, and the sands fall to return to the earth. The ground slowly starts to soak in the water.

He grabs at the vines surrounding Asra to find his friend waist deep in water, holding himself. Muriel stops in his tracks. He’s never seen Asra like this. The perpetual twinkle in Asra’s eyes seem to have left him. The spritely energy in his limbs, gone. Asra’s head even hangs, as if he has no energy to hold it up.

In all the years they spent together, he’s never seen his friend looking so in despair.

Muriel opens his mouth to speak, but shuts it immediately. Suddenly, he’s afraid to speak to the one person he’s always been the least uncomfortable talking to. So for a moment, he simply stands there, frozen in front of Asra. But then he feels his toes soaked, and his hands stinging. He sees similar cuts on Asra, from when the thorns got too close, and his clothes had already been soaked. Muriel knows they both need to clean up, and be safe.

“...Asra…” he whispers, hoping his friend can hear him. He almost breathes a sigh of relief when he sees his head move a little, acknowledging him.

He doesn’t know what to do. Now that Muriel’s got his friend’s attention, he doesn’t know what to do next. He had been so focused on his first task that he hadn’t thought beyond it.

Winging it, he carefully kneels down by his friend, making sure not to startle him. He waits as the murky water seeps into his clothes before he hears Asra whisper.

“...gone…”

Muriel perks up. Gone?

“Who?” he asks quietly, a sheer contrast to the chaos that had reigned earlier.

“...Why are you gone…”

Muriel is about to say that he’s right there, when he abruptly realizes that Asra’s not talking about him.

Silence hangs in the air, empty and void of life. No bugs, no beast, and not even a breeze dares to pass by. The world seems to turn a few shades greyer. 

Wanting to give his friend time, Muriel simply sits beside him on his knees, contemplating the series of recent events. But his thoughts get cut off when Asra collapses onto his arm. Startled, he catches Asra so he doesn’t hit the ground face first.

The outburst of magic must have taken all of his energy. Muriel double checks for a pulse, just to be safe. He lets go of a tiny breath he didn’t know he had held. Gingerly, he gathers up Asra into his arms and carries him into the small abode.

Muriel had never seen Asra like that, full of anger, guilt, sorrow. To be honest, it had scared him. He had never really seen raw, unbridled magic like that take over the land. He knows that Asra is a powerful magician, but now he’s beginning to see just how powerful.

Taking off his dirty clothes, Muriel lays Asra on the bed, pulling the covers over him. Even in rest, he notices Asra’s slightly knitted brows, and a whisper of a grimace on his lips. He wishes he could relieve him of his pain, but he’s not sure if he could. He’s not sure if anything ever would, but perhaps time.

All he knows is that he prays he never sees him in such pain again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, hope y'all are staying safe. thank you again for reading ^-^

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my story. As I mentioned, this will go on from when you first meet Asra, up until Book 1 of the game. 
> 
> The style is written similarly to the game, so feel free to insert your own apprentices. I've tried to build some elements into the apprentice's life, but also tried to keep some vague for y'all. This won't have the sort of choose your own adventure feel as the game does, but I will have content that can fit for both trans and cis readers! I'm trans/NB myself, so I wrote this with my own apprentice (who's also NB) in mind. Because of that, I've written some (angsty) scenes that sort of process the whole ~gender~ experience. But those chapters will be tweaked for cis apprentices as well! So no matter what, y'all will get the same amount of content. I will try to update on a weekly basis.
> 
> Stay tuned!


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